


Meridan

by Asher_Ephraim



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Cigarettes, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Eventual Fluff, Everyone Has Issues, Evil Space Boyfriends, Hux Backstory, IN SPACE!, Internalized Homophobia, Light Bondage, M/M, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Past Underage Sex, Probably Against Regulation, Scars, Second Chances, Smut, Suicide, Top Armitage Hux, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:25:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 74,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/pseuds/Asher_Ephraim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meridan Noro is a recent First Order Academy graduate assigned to the Finalizer, where he catches the attention of General Hux.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meridan

_Candidate Meridan Noro,_

_Congratulations on the completion of your academic coursework and the passage of your exit examinations. We are pleased to inform you of the following assignment:_

_Rate: Ensign First Class_

_Position: Bridge_

_Superior Officer: Captain First Class Kote Ledesma_

_Location:_   _Star Destroyer_ Finalizer

_You must arrive at your assignment to begin service within 72 standard hours. Present the attached orders at any allied or neutral spaceport for travel free of charge._

_Best of luck in your assignment and the years of service ahead,_

_Commander Yinsin Lotroya_

_First Order Department of Military Personnel_

 

Once Meridan had read and reread the assignment enough times to believe he wasn’t hallucinating—approximately fifty times in all—he went to the washbasin to throw some water on his face. As he dried himself with a towel, he returned to his datapad and forwarded the message to a single recipient.

         Baromis Noro: Father and all-around-asshole.

          — _You’ll never amount to anything._

— _It was a mistake to name you after your grandfather._

— _Your sister’s more of a man than you._

Meridan knew this wouldn’t really change the bastard’s mind; nothing would. His father would be more likely to think that the First Order personnel department had gone out of its collective mind than to believe that his son merited a flagship posting.

         — _How many times did you go down on your knees for that precious piece of flimsy?_

Meridan shook his head. He hadn’t seen or spoken to his father since he entered the Academy four years ago, but he could still perfectly imagine his vitriol.

          _I didn’t whore myself out for this or anything else I’ve ever received. I earned it, just like you said men should. Hard work, self-denial, pure fucking ambition. Not that you’d believe me._

With his father's likely criticisms ringing in his head, Meridan started packing his meager possessions. Everything still fit in his standard-issue duffel bag. Taking one last look around his dormitory room, he realized he wouldn’t miss it much, then headed to the port. He secured a seat on a flight leaving in eleven hours. He’d arrive on the _Finalizer_  forty-seven hours after that. As the clerk scanned his military ID to secure payment from the First Order database, he heard his nickname being screeched from across the port.

         “MER! Mer, Mer, Mer!”

         He waited until the approval went through, took his ID back, and finally turned. Four of his comrades-in-training were gaining on him, swinging their own duffel bags and grinning.

         “Hey guys.”

         Rahli and Westin grabbed him in a single bear hug. Once he could breathe again, he saw Westin steal a glance at his datapad. “So, superstar. Where are you headed?”

         “Nowhere for eleven more hours.”

         “Good,” Rahli nodded. “We’re going to get plastered before heading out. But what I think Westin meant is where are you headed _after_ those eleven hours are up?”

         Meridan sighed and let Rahli swipe his pad, waiting for the fallout.

         “Bantha-shit! This is complete and utter bollocks!” Rahli cried out in disbelief. He wasn’t known for his cursing, so the three other young men crowded around.

         Westin stared at Meridan and his voice betrayed shock. “The _Finalizer_. The fucking _Finalizer_.”

         Meridan gave him a small smile that he hoped was winning but still somewhat humble. “Apparently so.”

         “Well, this begs the question,” the previously silent Kirt began. “How did you do on the exits?”

         Mer cleared his throat. “Look, guys, I don’t want to start a pissing contest.”

         “The contest is over! And you already won it! We just want to know by how much.”

         “99.5%,” he admitted. He had scored in the top half-percentile of this year’s cadets—possibly higher, but the academies only reported to 0.5% and they never rounded up.

         “Well, I suppose that would do it.”

         “Anyway, onwards and upwards! But first—the booze!” Vano made the declaration with his arms waving in celebration. His announcement elicited a short cheer, and the group headed off towards the neon lights flickering down the road.

 

Rahli, Kirt, and Vano had left the bar to make their way back to the port for earlier flights. That left Meridan and Westin alone with a tableful of empty glasses between them.

         Westin gazed at Meridan over the dregs of his most recent drink. “One last time, Mer?” The question was barely above a murmur.

         “Sure. I’m up for another round or two, West.”

         “No, not that.” Westin’s eyes dropped as his hand fell over Meridan’s on the counter. “Us. Before we leave.” He started rubbing the skin between Meridan’s thumb and forefinger. The touch was somewhere between innocent and lascivious.

 _Us. Like that means something._ “Oh.” _Why does he always have to look so ashamed about it?_  Meridan had a slightly sick feeling in his stomach all of a sudden, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. “If you want.” _Yeah, leave it up to Mr. Sad Eyes here; we'll see how much fun he wants to have._

         “I’m going to miss you, Mer. I don’t know if… if anyone will understand me. Where I’m headed.” He glanced around and seeing that no one was looking at them directly, he impetuously took Meridan’s hand in his and brought it to his lips for a desperate kiss.

         “Look, you idiot,” Meridan began, putting as much affection into the insult as he could. “Estimates say five to ten percent of the human population is like us.”

         Westin let go of his hand and Meridan pulled it back. “Like you, you mean. I’m not—not really. Only with you."

         “Sorry, I know.” _No use arguing._ Meridan leaned in to whisper directly into his friend’s ear. “Just trying to say it’s more common than you might think. Look, would a blowjob cheer you up?”

         West’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, I think it would.”

          _Of course it fucking would._

 

West used him; he had for the past two years. He went to Meridan for comfort, for companionship, to erase his loneliness and self-doubts for an evening. And then he’d back away, avoiding the topic and Meridan’s eyes for weeks. Until the next time. And there was always a next time. But Meridan had learned to be happy with what he could get—or at least enjoy their time together while it lasted. And when West was with him, actually there, he was a sweet partner. Nicer than some of the guys Meridan had known.

         On his knees now, being used for the last time in the bedroom of an hourly rental, he listened to West respond to his mouth. He would miss this. Hell, he might even miss the stupid, languid stares that he sometimes caught West giving him—the looks he thought no one in their group saw, when he was busy deciding between being good and being happy. Everyone else knew; they just had the courtesy to not talk about it for Westin’s sake. Meridan would have been happy to sit in West’s lap during dinner. They would have been far from the only couple at the Academy—and not the only same-sex one either. Candidates were only barred from relationships with commissioned officers, not each other. But the most he ever received from Westin were furtive touches under the table, a finger running fearfully up his thigh. Times like that, Meridan just wanted to stick his tongue in West’s ear and force him to deal with himself, with _them_. But he never did; he’d been too concerned about losing what little they had.

         He returned to the moment at hand. West was getting close to climax, his small noises turning into words. He reached a hand out to steady himself against the bedside table. “Gods… Meridan… oh, fuck, _Mer_ …” His clumsy fingers knocked a small lamp onto its side.

         Meridan pulled his lips off to ask the other young man, “What do you want? Do you want to come in my mouth?” That was usually how their encounters went. Meridan would bring Westin off, and depending on the other boy’s mood, he might reciprocate.

         West groaned as he forced himself to think, to make a decision. He finally spoke. “Can… can I… Would you let me fuck you?”

         An eyebrow shot up before Meridan could prevent it. Two years. Two years of handjobs, of blowjobs, of coming against each other’s skin. And now they’d probably never see each other again and—

         Oh. That explained it. He wanted to say _No, I’ll miss you too much as it is_. But instead he stood up, kissed West’s neck, and murmured, “Yes. Please. Finally.”

         West took his hand and they moved toward the bed. “Show me how.”

         They laid out on the mattress and slowly removed what remained of each other’s clothes. West’s eyes weren’t sad anymore—his pupils were dilated with the low light and desire. Meridan realized his friend was trembling.

         “I’ll do the prep, West.” He reached for an inner pocket of his duffel bag and pulled out a small bottle.

         “What’s that?”

         “Lubricant.”

         Westin's response was faraway and thoughtful “Oh. Hm.”

          _First time, huh, sailor?_ Meridan thought. But instead he caught West’s lips in a soft kiss that quickly evolved into something distinctly _not_ soft. “How do you want me, West?” he breathed. He saw his partner’s confusion and gave him options. “On my back or on my knees?”

         He knew the answer even before West did—he knew the other man wouldn’t be able to look him in the face, not the first time, no matter how much he wanted it. “Knees,” West managed, his voice low and husky. Meridan also knew that his scars weren’t going to be a problem—the whole class and all their instructors had seen them and stayed silent at the very beginning of training. Only Rahli had mentioned it, later when they were alone after dinner. Then Rahli had turned his own arms over to display the parallel lines of tiny burns that peppered his pale skin. West had seen his back plenty of times, and although he’d looked at him a bit sadly afterwards, that was the extent of the discussion.

         “I need to get ready for you. It’s been a while for me.”

         Westin appeared concerned. “I don’t want to hurt you—”

         “It won’t hurt if we do it right.” Meridan laid back against the mattress and popped open the bottle cap. He poured lube into his palm and worked it onto his fingers. He reached a hand out and stroked West a little. “Touch yourself while you watch me,” he suggested, and brought his hand around, curving past his balls, tilting his hips up to give the other boy a bit of a show.

         “Uhn,” West grunted as he watched Meridan sink a finger inside himself. He leaned over and started nibbling at Meridan’s neck, brushing his stubbled cheek against his friend’s chin. “How long?” he whispered. “I—I want to be in you.”

         “Soon. I need to use my fingers more.”

         West looked directly at him, his eyes wild. “Can I?”

         “Of course. Take some lube first.”

         West complied as Meridan removed his own hand and flipped over for easier access. And then West’s hands were both on him, one on each cheek, spreading him just enough. A finger circled him slowly, hesitantly. Meridan let out a low growl in expectation, and the noise broke West’s reserve and the finger slid in.

         “Ah,” Meridan sighed in relief. It wasn’t the feeling itself—it was the fact that it was West. _About damn time._

         “May I move my finger?” West asked, like this were Meridan’s first time too. It was sweet.

         “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

          West slid his finger back and then in deeper, exploring the curious sucking feeling around his digit. “Mer, you’re so tight. How will I ever…?” he let the question hang.

         “More fingers. Stretch me.”

         “I see.” West was a quick study. He worked his middle finger in beside the first and began pumping his hand back and forth.

         Meridan groaned, and this time it _was_ the feeling. “More. Please, more.”

         West began to slide his two fingers apart, spreading the passage in preparation for another. Meridan moaned softly under him, and West remembered his own erection. He stroked himself with his left hand as he worked his three digits with the other.

         “Soon,” Meridan promised. “Are you hard enough?”

         “I don’t know if I’ve ever been harder,” West admitted in a whisper.

         “Good. Sit up on your knees and lead the way with your fingers.”

         West did as he said, guiding himself inside. He went slowly but more smoothly than Meridan had expected. _Probably because he’s so worked up._ “Mer? Where do I put my hands?” he asked tentatively once he was in up to the hilt.

         Meridan chuckled at the boy's hesitancy. “Anywhere you want, handsome. Hips or shoulders are traditional.” He felt West’s hands rub his shoulders briefly before sliding down his back to settle around his waist.

        “This feels like the right spot.”

         “Yes it does.” Meridan wasn’t talking about West’s hands; he was referring to the entire situation.

         West breathed out and Meridan felt his thighs tremble. “Here goes,” he said, mostly to himself, then began pressing against Meridan’s ass. It didn’t take him long to hit his stride—Meridan had always figured this was a pretty natural motion for just about anybody, and West was supplying more supporting evidence. Meridan licked his palm and reached down to grab himself in a fist; he knew West was plenty busy already. Maker knew his first time he hadn’t been thinking of his partner either. After a few minutes, West was already panting heavily. “Gods… Mer… I can’t… so tight, so warm, so good.”

         Meridan sped up his own strokes to better coordinate his climax. “Then come.”

         "Is that okay?”

         “West, keep fucking me until you’re done.”

         That did it. West moaned in deep satisfaction, still thrusting wildly, and let go. Meridan followed immediately, spilling onto the sheets as he felt West come inside him in waves.

* * *

The first encounter he’d had with Westin Burgett had come in their second year of candidacy. Meridan had followed the other student outside the bar for a tabac break even though he himself rarely smoked. They were both mostly drunk already, and nicotine sounded like a good idea.

         Westin gave him a cautious sideways glance. “This is probably going to sound strange, but you’re the first openly homosexual person I’ve met.” He grimaced dramatically. “And now you must think I’m a provincial rube.”

         Meridan shrugged. “I didn’t know any myself until I came here. The only other gay person I knew on Pridax was my boyfriend. We weren’t out.”

         “And are there many gay people here? At the Academy, I mean?”

         “There seem to be quite a few. Some couples, even. No one’s particularly concerned about consequences. It’s a nice change.”

         “You seeing anyone?” Westin asked.

         “Not really. Trying to focus on my studies. You?”

         “Same, I guess. Well, not because of studies. Just haven’t found anyone yet.”

         “You’ve got to be kidding,” Meridan said before thinking things through. “I mean, you’re quite attractive.” _Shit. What are you doing?_

         Westin smiled at him knowingly. “It’s tough, isn’t it? I mean, I get so… worked up. And then I can’t focus on anything at all, because all my energy goes into... _wanting_. I get too fucking horny to even chat a girl up like a normal person.” He slipped Meridan a sneaky grin. “Don’t you get like that sometimes?”

         “I suppose. That’s usually when I… Well.” Meridan looked at the burning end of his cigarette before continuing and decided to let Westin know how he went about stress reduction. _Nothing shameful about it_ , he reminded himself. Looking around, there was no one here to contradict him. Even after two years at the Academy, systems away from home, he could still hear his father’s disparagements. But slowly he was learning to shake off the imagined insults before they sunk in too far. “When I go out drinking. Looking for something casual.”

         “Like tonight?”

         Meridan shrugged. That really wasn’t his reason for coming to the bar. He’d just been joining a few friends for an evening out. But now he wanted to see where this conversation was headed. It sounded like West was desperate to blow off some steam. “Not especially, but that doesn’t rule out the possibility.”

         The other student groaned as he took a sharp inhalation, nearing the edge of the filter. “Fuck, I need to get off soon or I’ll go mad. Y’know, I’ve never… been with a male. But I suppose it could be satisfying. You’d— _he’d_ , I mean—know what to do. Know what I needed.”

         Meridan wasn’t too drunk to notice the slip, or to realize that Westin was gauging his interest. “Care to find out?”

         “What? With you?” Westin looked at Meridan in hungry appraisal. “I… well… Sure, why the hell not?”

         Meridan grinned. “How ‘bout a blowjob, then?”

         Westin sighed in relief. “I’d love one.” He paused, lost in imagination. “Now?” A quick nod. “Where?” He was already working on logistics.

         Knowing he’d feel like a whore for this the next day, Meridan pushed his reservations to the backmost corner of his mind. “You have a vehicle here?”

         Westin nodded, then caught himself. “I really shouldn’t drive.”

         “Don’t worry. We’ll just be using the backseat.” He grabbed West’s hand. “C’mon. Lead the way.”

         The candidate threw away his dying cigarette and more or less dragged Meridan down the street. His speeder was tucked away in an alley three blocks from the bar. After unlocking it with a series of beeps from his remote, he looked around to assess just how alone they were. “Fuck it,” he mumbled, grabbing Meridan by the waist and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

         Meridan hadn’t expected this—he’d only bargained for quick oral in the backseat, not foreplay. But now West’s tongue was exploring his mouth, and he decidedly did not mind. Not one single bit. Meridan sighed against West’s lips. They kissed desperately, hungrily, trying to forget their loneliness just a little. Eventually West broke away, held Meridan by the shoulders, and smiled. “You’re a good kisser.”

         “I’m even better on my knees.”

         Westin’s pupils dilated even more as he remembered the offer that had started this. He immediately clambered into the speeder, Meridan following him. It was a tight squeeze between the front seats, but once they made it to the back there was plenty of space. Meridan settled in on the floorboard between Westin’s knees.

         “Show me what you’ve got,” he demanded, rubbing at bulge in the boy’s pants. The belt vanished, West pulled his flies open, and then Meridan reached in and gently pulled him out. “Nice.”

         “You like it?” West asked, sounding a tad skeptical.

         “Yes. Let me show you exactly how much.”

         “Oh, _fuck_.” West’s fingers curled into the seat cushion as Meridan gave him a lick, then sucked the head between his lips. He gasped when Meridan’s head began to bob. “That’s amazing.”

         Meridan pulled off with a solid suck and grinned up at him. “Anything you particularly like?” As he spoke, he jerked West slowly, steadily.

         “What? Other than getting sucked off?”

         “Y’know. Deep-throating, taint licking, ball squeezing?” He didn’t mention fingering or rimming; he wasn’t going to press his luck tonight. Maybe there’d be a chance for that sort of thing, somewhere down the road.

         “I… don’t know. Haven’t much done any of that.”

         Meridan leaned in again and worked Westin from shaft to tip, listening to his quiet sighs. He felt a tentative hand on his head, then fingers playing with his curls. This encouraged him to see if he could swallow West whole. Finally touching his lips against the boy’s pelvis, he received his reward in breathy moans.

         “Fucking _hells_ , Mer.”

         Taking a quick break, Meridan shyly said, “You can fuck my face if you’d like.” He figured that West needed a little encouragement, if not outright instruction.

         “What does that mean?”

         He rolled his eyes. “Just what it sounds like. Thrust into my mouth. Hold my head in place.”

         “Oh.” He ran a fingertip across Meridan’s reddened lips. “You’d be okay with that?”

          _Like I'd have suggested it otherwise._ But he supposed it was nice for Westin to check to make sure. “More than okay. I want to get you off. Use me.” That probably wasn’t the healthiest thing to say, but Meridan was aching to please Westin. He had kind eyes and a lovely dick, and Meridan was growing increasingly certain that he wasn’t entirely—or even mostly—straight. Especially after their impromptu make-out session.

         “Ah, fuck, Mer. Get your mouth back on me.” This time, he held Meridan down and tilted his hips upward to fill the boy’s throat. “That’s so hot. Fucking your face,” he repeated the phrase to himself, watching the act. “Maker, you do know what you’re doing. This is exactly what I needed.” He listened to Meridan’s mouth as he angled into it over and over. “I’m gonna get off so fucking hard on you. In your mouth okay?”

         Meridan nodded briefly then hummed in happy anticipation.

         “You want it?”

         He nodded more energetically, enthusiastically. West began bucking and groaning wildly, gripping Meridan’s head as though his life depended on it. And then he was coming into his friend’s mouth.

         Gasping for breath, Westin watched Meridan swallow. “Fuck, that was so hot. I’m gonna jerk off to that for weeks.” Regaining some of his more complex thought processes, he added, “What do you want from me?” He looked slightly concerned, as though Meridan were going to demand full reciprocation from him.

         “Would you mind kissing me again? While I take care of myself? You don’t have to watch. I’ll keep my pants on.”

         West smiled in relief. “Not at all. Get back up here,” he ordered kindly, patting the cushion beside him welcomingly.

* * *

 _Not a bad send-off_ , he thought as he settled into the second-class compartment. He’d be playing that over in his head for a while. He wasn’t worried like Westin had been, but he knew it would probably be some time before he found a new partner.

 _Maybe this one will actually admit he likes men._ It would be nice to have someone reciprocate a little more, and maybe not disappear after climax for days on end.

         Although he admitted it was rather flattering to hear _Only for you. I’d never want this from another guy. Just you, Mer._ As frustrated as he’d been with West, he missed him already.

         He went back and forth in his mind for a while. He tried to read the notices on his datapad and almost got interested in an article about spice smuggling, but then he shifted in his seat. The slight soreness brought him back to the previous night. Well, to seven hours ago. Meridan wondered how guilty West was already feeling. Or maybe he was too exhausted after the booze-up and the—aftermath.

         Yawning widely, he realized how tired he was himself. Might as well try to get some rest. He was expecting his first weeks on the _Finalizer_ to be at least slightly brutal.


	2. Muster

Slightly brutal would have been an improvement.

         The first day of muster sent him back to the very start of his schooling. He felt short, clumsy, and confused. It was difficult to remember that he was now twenty-two, average height for his race, and fit. He tried to believe that the seven others were as nervous as he was; it didn’t work. They were six males and two females. Each at the very top of their class, ambitious, driven. His attention was suddenly grabbed by motion to the right.

         Muster always felt like a court date. You showed up to be sentenced for a crime you didn’t remember committing—but no matter, the leader would discover it and make it plainly known in front of all your comrades. And that was before he’d seen General Hux.

         A shudder went down the line. None of them had known beforehand who was running muster. Apparently it was the Commander of the Unified Forces of the First Order. Meridan was grateful that he was still slightly dehydrated, because he felt that otherwise he might just return to his childhood habit of wetting his pants when terrified. Their only hope was that the general didn’t have enough time to pay attention to their faults in great detail.

         Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that this process was not a mere formality. The general was prepared to dress down any of them for any reason.

         “Byri, your belt buckle appears to be upside-down. He sounded absolutely exhausted as he continued with, “No, don’t fix it in public.”

         “Do you smoke, Huula? Stop immediately. I never want to smell it on you again.”

         “There appears to be some sort of seed lodged between your front teeth, Nik.”

         And here he was, right in front of Meridan, starched and trim and tall and so very orderly. General Hux looked him up and down once, then again. A curt nod, a quick “Noro,” and then on to the next recruit.

          _I passed._

“Please lose some weight. We don’t do bespoke uniforms due to heftiness.”

         He finished his trip down the line, then returned to face them front and center. “Good morning, recruits. Not the most promising of beginnings. In fact, I’m rather impressed that all of you managed to find the bridge. However, you may not be the worst crop yet. Last year the academies sent me ten. Two junkies, an asthmatic, and a stutterer. I pray to all the gods ever invented that you eight can do at least a little better than that. Feel free to pray as well.” With that, he spun on his heels and strode to take command of the bridge.

         Meridan took a few moments to convince his heart rate to drop.

          _But I was the only one who passed muster._

         He realized that at least two other recruits were giving him dirty looks.

          _Great. Now I’m the teacher’s pet._

 

Hux sighed into his brandy, not sure how much longer he could put up with these conditions. Only one of his new officers had even passed muster. But he liked the looks of that one… EFC M. Noro, was it? The name sounded vaguely familiar. Lazily he keyed up the ensign’s profile.

         Ah, grandson of the first Meridan Noro, hero of the Clone Wars. Son of Baromis Noro, retired Imperial corporal. A military family background; that made sense. But this young man seemed strangely tense—all the other recruits were full of themselves, like usual. Meridan, while confident, appeared… angry? Frustrated? There was some sort of energy beneath the surface there.

         Hux was going to have to figure it out. He didn’t tolerate the presence of unknown variables in his equations.

 

It was a small mercy that the next three days passed without any interaction between the general and the recruits. Captains Ledesma and Foryani directly supervised four of the new officers each, and they were the ones who would be handling the onboarding and orientation process.

         Meridan was having difficulty wrapping his brain around the sheer size of the _Finalizer._ It housed twice the people of the town he’d grown up in on Pridax. His quarters, although a single room plainly furnished, had its own refresher. He felt somewhat immature for being excited about this, but after four years of shared amenities, it represented a significant improvement. Also, the pillow was softer than he was used to. Meridan allowed himself to be pleased, since no one was around to witness his undignified giddiness over a private shower and fluffy pillow. _Might as well enjoy it._

         Now he just needed to show the Powers That Be that he deserved this.

* * *

In comparison to some of the other new officers, he was already doing well. On Day 5, Ensign Nik managed to forget how to calculate the area under a parabola, leading to some very odd fuel usage estimates. When the general himself stopped by to inquire about the suspicious figures, Nik prevaricated.

         “I used Ensign Huula’s formulae,” he explained, waving his hands vaguely while steadily maintaining eye contact with the general.

         Hux took this opening to turn to Huula, who was trying to tame his own shocked expression. “Is that so, Huula?” His voice was flat but his raised eyebrows indicated that he would be surprised if Huula had in fact been involved in any way.

         The surprised junior officer stumbled in his response. “Ah, well, sir, no. Not exactly.”

         “Did you assist in any of these calculations, Ensign?”

         Huula bit his lower lip before deciding to shake his head. “No, sir.”

         The general’s attention found its way back to Nik. “Take ownership of your mistakes, Ensign. Otherwise you don’t deserve praise for your successes.” Then he handed the folder off to Huula. “Try your hand at this, then. I recommend performing your own computations.” On his way off the bridge, he added in a rather cheery tone of voice, “Just a reminder that your postings here are provisional.”

         Everyone knew precisely whom he was reminding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings apply to this update. And it's a short chapter, I know. Although I have most (?) of the story done, the next few chapters are what I really need to work on now. I've been pulling overtime at work, so once I get home I just want to collapse and let my brain rest.


	3. Stupid Mistakes

Meridan watched in horror as the delivery shuttle scraped across the frame of the landing bay, ripping a solar panel loose. “Shit!” he hissed, calling up the routing play-by-play to determine what he’d done wrong when entering the trajectory plans. At least it was an unmanned transport and he hadn’t put a pilot’s life at risk. But there was significant cost involved, and it could have been avoided.

        “Why didn’t you double-check the trajectory?”

         Meridan stared up into the general’s piercing green-blue eyes. “I forgot, sir. I apologize.” He was hoping that straightforward honesty would be the best policy. He’d taken note when Nik hadn’t fared well in his attempt to pass blame on to Huula.

         The general nodded. “Forgetfulness is unacceptable. I will see you in my office at 2130.”

         “Yes, sir.”

          _That’s it, I’m doomed. I’ll be shipped off to some miserable hunk of junk orbiting a backwater planet._ He tried to keep his spiraling worries in check; after all, Nik was still on the bridge. For the time being.

* * *

The general’s desk was at least as organized as the man sitting behind it.

         “Attention to detail has so far been one of your hallmark traits, Ensign. What happened today?”

         “I made a careless mistake, sir.” He wondered how closely the general had been keeping tabs on him and the others. Enough to formulate a list of hallmark traits, apparently.

         Hux sighed exhaustedly and pinched the bridge of his nose as if attempting to ward off an impending headache. “Yes, I am keenly aware of that. I’m asking for the reasons behind it.”

         “You’d like context, sir?”

          A hand waved in exasperation. “Yes, praise the idiot gods, you finally understand me.”

         “I—I’m not sure it’s an appropriate topic, sir.” He doubted it was a good idea to discuss the insulting missive he’d received from his bastard father, and even less confident that he should explain the reasons behind it.

         “Ensign, if personal problems are interfering with your work, then they are no longer personal. They immediately become _my_ problems.”

         “I understand, sir.” Meridan swallowed painfully as his throat had become suddenly dry. “I received a message from my father this morning. It was less than complimentary, as is traditional.”

         “You have longstanding issues with your father?”

         “This is the first I’ve heard from him since I notified him of my posting here.” And that had been the first time they’d corresponded since Meridan’s matriculation.

         Hux raised an eyebrow. “I know from your record that you come from an old military family. Proud Old Empire folks, that sort of thing. And you’re telling me that your father was unimpressed with your assignment to a flagship retinue?”

         He nodded while replying, “Yes, General.”

         “Why is that exactly?”

         “Nothing is good enough for him, sir.” Meridan decided to go ahead and disclose the reason he’d brought shame and disappointment to Baromis Noro. “Because I disgust him. Ever since he found me—” he pushed back the image that came unbidden to his mind and rephrased. “—Since he found _out_ … that I like men, sir.”

         Hux chuckled quietly, but it wasn’t a cruel sound; instead it conveyed something rather sad. Frustration, perhaps. The general shook his head. “We’re trying to run a galactic government here, and there are still so many fools who hold these outdated notions of sexual propriety—” he stopped suddenly. “What precisely did he say to you?”

         “He… I don’t think I can bring myself to say it aloud, sir. Would you like to read it?” Meridan gestured with his datapad.

         “Not particularly,” Hux said, but his hand was already reaching out for the proffered device.

 

_Meridan—_

_Although it pains me to use your given name as it was my father’s, I cannot bring myself to call you “son.” I haven’t been able to use that word properly since the day I walked in on you and that other pervert. At least now I can inform my acquaintances that you have an honorable-sounding assignment, regardless of the manner in which I’m certain you obtained it. How many degrading acts you must have committed to get where you are today! Perhaps even that General—he always struck me as a likely invert—has you on your sad little knees._

_Do not contact me again. I only wish to hear your name when it is listed among the dead in some upcoming and pointless conflict._

_Signed,_

_Col. Baromis Noro (Ret.)_

 

         “Ensign,” Hux finally spoke, his voice low as he broke the silence between them.

         “Sir?” Meridan took back the datapad. He was concerned about how Hux might have taken the insult to his own person. _Invert. What a horrible, outdated word._

         “I’m sorry.” Hux’s tone was quiet and angry. He rose from his seat and turned to stare at the wall. Meridan watched the general’s shoulders rise and fall. “I apologize for prying. It isn’t my place, but I’d recommend blocking further transmissions from him.”

        “I already have, sir.”

        “That’s probably for the best. You are excused, forgiven, and dismissed.”

         Meridan took his leave. Once in his quarters, he erased the message. But it was just a gesture—he already had the words memorized. He sighed and made his way to the refresher unit. At least the general had been surprisingly sympathetic.

          _Maybe Father is right about him._

         At that unbidden thought, Meridan bit his lower lip until he tasted blood. _Father isn’t right about a single damn thing._

* * *

Hux was furious. His most promising new officer was facing difficulties because of some old moron. Why did the man have to send a message at all? It seemed Meridan was under no illusions about their relationship, was happy enough to try to carry on without a father in his life—so why would the older Noro reach out just to hurt him?

         The general had his answer right there. _Just to hurt him_. What had that bastard walked in on, anyway? An adolescent boy on his knees with a friend’s cock in his mouth? Or worse, his arse?

         He saw a younger Meridan bent over a mattress, wavy hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. Eyes dilated with desire, biting his lower lip, another boy’s hands gripping his shoulders…

         Hux felt a pang of lust at the image, but drove it away, too bitter to entertain desire at the moment. Surely he didn’t want the angry young officer. He only wanted Noro to perform as well as the general knew he could.

          _Perform_. The word carried other thoughts into his mind. Again, he pushed the images back. He could imagine but not sympathize with the elder Noro’s anger: As an only son, Meridan had probably been expected to carry on the family name and legacy. Make Captain at the bare minimum. Have at least two sons. Name the first one Boromis and the second Meridan. Get a mistress, have a secret second family with even more sons.

         Same old story. He wondered if Noro Sr. had tried to force a girl on Meridan after his discovery. Not that Hux had any idea what that was like. Oh, no, not a damn clue.

        He was sorry he’d caused Noro to reveal this, to delve into things that surely caused him pain and had done so for years. Vaguely he wondered what the man had said to his son when the boy was young, still developing his sense of self. Hux hoped Meridan’s ego was mostly unscathed from the experience. Perhaps the Colonel had been more distant than angrily involved. The way Commandant Hux had been: clearly disapproving, but rarely saying much to that effect. Disappointment that registered its presence in miniscule gestures, a fleeting facial expression; not outright shouting or insults. Such behavior was below the station of the Huxes, and ever since he’d been legitimized and moved into his father’s house, he’d had endless instruction in proper comportment.

         The offense to his own person in Noro’s letter was unsurprising, and nothing he hadn't heard before. Hux knew he was cold, calculating, and impeccably dressed. People who thought on the matter often figured he was gay or a sadist. Or both. Hux smiled—he failed to feel the intended insult. Such petty matters no longer concerned him; ever since—

          _Stop. Do not even_ think _his name._

         He stood up and gathered his workout clothes. It was either train or masturbate, and he’d made up his mind to ignore the latter option for the time being. Because he knew who would be on his mind, and he didn’t want to entertain that line of thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for homophobia and strained father-son relationships.


	4. Team Building

The new officers had been shuttled to a moon currently undergoing terraforming for mining purposes. The terrain was rough and the new atmosphere thin, which was why the site had been selected for a team-building exercise. Nik had voiced his opinion that their superiors’ intent could more accurately be described as spirit-crushing, a comment that had garnered him some wry smiles. He’d been demonstrating a more pleasant side of his personality since his screw-up; he was well aware that his comrades’ opinion of him could make or break the future of his tenure on the _Finalizer_.

         After the shuttle disgorged them at the base of a rocky mountain, the young officers stood and gazed at the summit for a moment before shrugging and heading onwards and upwards.

         No one spoke much; the available oxygen was limited and everyone immediately felt out of breath. They proceeded in mostly companionable silence, picking their way over the dusty debris that littered their paths. After ninety minutes, Meridan found himself apace with Ensign Byri. Her forehead was shiny with sweat and she bit the bottom of her lip as she concentrated on her steps.

         “Hold up for a bit, would you?” Meridan asked as he stopped to swig some water from his canteen. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press the issue. Despite the cool air he was feeling overheated from exertion. He pulled his sweater over his head and felt his shirt ride up with it. He thought he’d kept his back well hidden, but he heard Byri gasp.

         “What the fuck happened to you?” Apparently she _had_ stopped to break with him.

         He wanted to snap, _What the fuck does it look like?_   But he didn’t—the whole point of this exercise was to develop their group into some semblance of a team. And he found Asja Byri more pleasant than any of the other new officers. He chose to stay silent as she looked him up and down studiously.

         “It couldn’t have been an accident.” Meridan swallowed hard as she continued. “Someone did that to you.”

         He nodded. “My father,” he managed by way of explanation. How he’d come to despise that word. Once, years and years back he’d discovered his own baby book among his father’s texts in the library. According to its records, _father_ (probably mispronounced) had been the second word ever to cross his lips. No surprise that _mother_ had come first, since she must have been the one to care for him when he was that small. Before his father had to mind him and Sulli, albeit mediated by a protocol droid purchased for that express purpose.

         “Oh my fucking gods, Noro. Why?”

         “Because he’s a complete bastard.” This was really all anyone needed to know. It was also all he wanted to say. He’d never really talked about it with anyone other than Garrit; no one else had asked and he wasn’t going to volunteer.

         “Well, obviously. That goes without saying. But what set him off?”

         “Can we just—” He saw her determined expression and gave in. “Fine. I’m homosexual.” He squinted at her to watch her reaction. Even though the First Order had an official policy of not giving a shit, most of its recruits were from the Rim and beyond, where things like traditional family structures and strict religions continued to hold sway. Places like his own homeworld, where everyone pretended they were proper and good, where no one wanted to admit that anyone in their family had ever been anything but. The masquerades hiding all the hidden dalliances and secret addictions. He suddenly recalled his sister’s friend whose mother had a secret girlfriend, and all the deceptions put into place to keep it that way.

         Byri shrugged. “So’s my little sister. And don’t worry about my opinion—I certainly understand liking men.” She grinned up at him. “Although I admit I’m personally a little disappointed. You’re the cutest of our weird little group.”

         Meridan smiled genuinely. “Thanks.”

         “But… going back to what he did to you. Was he trying to kill you?”

         “No, but I used to wish he would.”

         She spat onto the dust at her feet, a waste of hydration that had Meridan feeling both shocked and touched. “ _You_ should have killed _him_.”

         “Don’t think I didn’t dream about it, repeatedly and in great detail. For eight years. Even still, sometimes.”

         “Where was your mother during all this?”

         “Died when I was two. I don’t remember her.”

         “What happened?”

         “She had epilepsy. After the Empire fell, the New Republic blockaded the Outer Rim. She couldn’t reliably get the meds she needed. Eventually she went into stat-epi.” Meridan saw Ensign Byri shake her head quizzically, not understanding the term. “Status epilepticus—a generalized seizure lasting over five minutes, or multiple subsequent seizures without sufficient recovery time. The medics couldn’t stop it. She passed out and didn’t regain consciousness. My father decided not to keep her on life support. By that point, the brain damage was too extensive. Even if she'd woken up, she was already gone. There was no point in dragging it out.”

         “You sound so... detached and clinical.”

         “Like I said, I don’t remember her, or her death.”

         “Do you think she would have protected you? From your father?”

         Meridan shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. I tried not to wonder. I didn’t want to think of what he might have done to her. Because they didn’t fall in love; they had an arranged marriage. One of those political things that happen to people from well-connected families. Anyway. I think we should press on.”

         “If you ever need to talk, Noro, I’m here.” She shouldered her pack but lingered.

         “Please call me Meridan.”

         “Only if you call me Asja.”

         “Deal.” They shook on it.

         Scrabbling up the path over boulders that seemed to have been purposefully placed to twist ankles, Meridan and Asja found themselves together again on a rocky outcropping. They took a moment to pull out their water canteens and attempt to catch their breath.

         “About those arranged marriages. Were you going to have one?” Byri decided to remove her own sweater, and Meridan noted that she’d been sweating profusely. He hadn’t spent much time in the company of young women, and he was surprised to see this degree of perspiration. Was that sexist? Or just naïvely ignorant?

         “That had always been the plan. I was going to graduate from the Academy with my commission, court a few ladies on a pre-approved list during shore leave, and marry my favorite once I made Major.” He recalled the parallel plan he’d worked out in his head: Returning to Pridax only for Garrit Alkaram, immediately proposing to him, and far moving away.

         “Huh. That’s very organized.”

         “Yes. It seems to have worked out alright for my sister.”

         “You have a sister?”

         “Sulli, yes. She married a captain last year.”

         “Is he a decent guy?”

         He shrugged noncommittally. “Apparently. I wasn’t invited to the ceremony, but she and I still correspond.”

         “I hope your father didn’t hurt her as well.”

         “No, thank the Maker. She knew what was happening to me, but she was only twelve when it started. It was odd to have my little sister try to comfort me.”

         They spent the rest of the climb in companionable silence.

* * *

  **Intermission: Back Then.**

“Mer? You okay?” Sulli’s voice comes through the cracked doorway.

         “Hey Sulli.”

         She pushes the door open and creeps inside. Her brother is lying on the bed, a thin sheet pulled up to his chin. “I heard,” she explains to the floorboards. “Want me to get the droid?”

         “No.” His voice is firm. “Absolutely not. Nothing leaves this room.” He wonders what precisely she overheard. Just the sounds of shouting, muffled cries, and his eventual collapse on the floor? Or had she caught the actual words that Baromis Noro had yelled? He wildly hopes it was only the former.

         She walks up to the edge of the bed and sits down on a corner. The mattress hardly dips at all under the weight of her tiny frame. “What happened?”

         He turns away to face the wall; she sees him wince as he moves. “Doesn’t matter.”

         She pinches his little toe, causing him to kick out involuntarily. “Tell me, you jerk.” Sulli knows this really isn’t the time to act immature, but she’s tried being grownup about this and it isn’t working.

         “He used his belt on me. For a while.” _For twenty minutes. He would have kept going but he wore himself out at one hundred fifty lashes. I’m lucky he married at the age of forty._

         “What did you do?”

         Meridan sighs at the wall. He knows Sulli isn’t accusing him of doing anything wrong. She just wants to know what had set Colonel Noro off, but the wording still bothers him. At least it means that she didn't hear their father calling him a worthless invert. “You know Garrit?”

         She rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know who your best friend is.” What sort of idiot does he take her for?

         “He’s not just my friend.” Meridan flips back onto his left side to watch his sister scrunch her face up in thought.

         “Oh. _Oh!_ You… you’re _boyfriends?_ ” She sticks her lower lip out in a bit of a pout. “Blast. I thought I might marry him one day.”

         “You’re jealous?” he asks, amused—and terribly grateful that she isn't horrified by the revelation.

         “Yeah. He’s nice.” She kicks her legs out over the side of the bed. “Is he a good kisser?”

          “I’m not telling.”

          “I bet he is,” she decides. “How did Father find out?”

          “Walked in on us.”

          She looks curious. “Doing what?”

         “None of your business, really. But we were just kissing.” He reviews the scene in his mind, trying to figure out where it went wrong. They’d been sitting side by side on the couch, discussing in undertones if and when they should have sex for the first time. Then Garrit had admitted how frustrating it was to keep all of this from everyone they knew. Some of their mutual friends are starting to date as well, and none of them is able to shut up about the experience. And they probably know that Meridan and Garrit are together, but no one can discuss it. So Meridan had placed a comforting hand over his boyfriend’s, and that was when Garrit had leaned in for a kiss. Once it started, it was difficult to stop, especially considering the conversation they’d been having. To be perfectly honest, they should have just stood up and left for Garrit’s. Because he lived in an apartment attached to his parents’ house, his was a better place to talk, and a mostly safe space to do other things as well.

         “And Father walked in.”

         “Yes.”

         “And he had a fit," she guesses easily.

         “Yes. I’m supposed to want girls and marry one. Obviously.” He's trying not to sound excessively bitter; it isn't working.

         “Can’t you marry a girl and have a boyfriend too?”

         “I hardly think that would go over well. It wouldn’t be fair to my wife.” Meridan gets a weird little kick from hearing the words ‘my wife’ come out of his mouth.

         “Ramika’s mother has a girlfriend. We’re not supposed to know about it, though.”

         “That’s… interesting. But Father doesn’t want me to be gay at all.” Unbidden, a few choice utterances return to his mind. _Perverted tendencies. Unnatural desires. Probably due to your mother’s absence during your formative years._ The things Baromis had growled between sets of lashes as he caught his breath.

         “Do you like girls even a little bit?”

         “Not like that, I don’t.”

         “Well, then, move somewhere you can marry Garrit.”

         “I can’t exactly do that anytime soon, Sulli. I’ve got at least four years left of this shit. Sorry, language. I’ll have to figure some things out in the meantime.” He's still planning on attending one of the First Order Academies. A few months ago he scoured the military Code of Conduct and was relieved to discover that homosexuality was not a disqualifying attribute in prospective service members, and that harassment on the basis of sexual orientation was in fact explicitly prohibited. He’s tried to envision what it would be like to have that level of official protection—and he keeps failing.

         “Are you going to stop seeing Garrit?”

         “No, don’t be ridiculous. But he can’t come around to the house anymore.” He sees her face fall. “I’m sorry. It wouldn’t be safe for either of us.” Baromis Noro has to be able to believe that it’s over, which means no evidence in front of him.

         “Did he hurt Garrit too?” She looks like she’s ready to kill her father if she gets the wrong answer.

         “No, but he made him watch.”

         The tears that have been threatening to spill from her eyes finally do. “Fuck.”

         “Sulli!” He’s never heard her say anything stronger than ‘bloody’ or ‘blast.’

         “I’m not sorry. Fuck that. Fuck _him_.” She smiles at him through her tears for a moment, but the look doesn't last. “Let me see what he did.”

         “No,” he says, although he’s already peeling his shirt up. He hears her gasp at the bloody lashes and lines of welts across his back. He imagines it looks worse than it did an hour ago when Baromis finally gave up; he wonders how bad it’s going to be by tomorrow.

         She stands up decisively. “I’m getting the droid.” He waves a protesting hand to stop her, but she pushes it away and ignores him.

         It comes and patches him up as best it can with its limited capabilities—it’s a protocol model, not a medical droid. Meridan tries to ignore the way it calls him ‘sir.’ But as it finishes placing the last of the bandages, it steps back and looks directly at him.

         “Sir, it’s hardly my place, but I recognize that you have been beaten.”

         “Yes.” What is it with protocol units and stating the obvious? Who had thought that was a useful piece of programming?

         “This is illegal, especially considering that you’re a minor—”

         “Drop it.”

         “Especially if it was at the hands of your fa—”

         “Who would you have me tell?” he snaps.

          “‘Whom’, sir.” The unit had been bought partially to serve as a round-the-clock tutor to Meridan and Sulli, so he’s used to this sort of correction. He’s learned to ignore it. “The local constabulary is equipped to handle complaints of this sort, I’m sure.”

         “Do you know why he did it?”

         The droid shakes its head. “No, sir, I am unaware of the reasoning behind his actions.”

          “Let’s just say it’s something I can’t have getting out. Not without putting someone else in danger.” Garrit’s father would do at least the same to him.

          “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

          Meridan gazes over its head. “So we’re just going to have to cope. I imagine I’ll have need of your services again.”

          “Yes, sir. As you please.”

          After the droid gives a stiff bow and leaves, Sulli speaks again. “Did you mean that?”

          “Mean what?”

          “You think he’ll do it again?”

          “I know he will, Sulli. Because I’m not going to stop.” He just has to be a little more careful. So he tugs a fresh shirt on and avoids looking at the blood stains on the one he threw to the floor. “That being said, I’m going out for the evening.”

          “Where?”

          “Garrit’s, of course. I have some gay to be. I’ll be back in the morning to see you off to school.”

          She gives a shy smile. “Kiss him for me?”

          He pats her head indulgently. “No. That would be weird. Find someone to kiss with your own face.”

 

He rings the bell to Garrit’s apartment and waits for an answer. It takes longer than usual, but eventually he hears the buzz of the locking mechanism giving way and lets himself in.

         “Hey. I didn’t expect you to come by tonight.” He’s standing in the doorway, his expression all sympathy, a study in naked emotion.

         “Couldn’t stay away.” He steps into Garrit’s hug. “Couldn’t stay home.” What ever would they do if Garrit lived in the main part of his parents’ house? Both of their families have the credit accounts to cover endless hotel stays, but that wouldn’t work out more than once before they were cut off entirely—and worse would surely follow. If they didn’t have this one safe space, where would they go? Would any of their other friends give them a place to meet, knowing it could bring down the wrath of the Noros and Alkarams?

         “Are you alright?” Garrit asks as they settle onto the couch, side by side and touching at multiple points as always. They spend so much time being restrained in public and around others that when they’re finally alone, they’re always in physical contact. And it isn’t just sexual, mostly it’s for reassurance. _I’m still here. You’re still here. Good._

         Meridan shrugs. “Sulli had our droid patch me up. She insisted.”

         “She’s a good one, your sister.”

         “I know. Between the two of you, I’m well taken care of.” He tries to believe that Sulli’s and Garrit’s love together more than outweighs his father’s disgust. Looking at Garrit now, he’s pretty sure he can convince himself the balance is in his favor. Maybe he’s actually more lucky than not.

         Garrit starts playing with the curls on Meridan’s forehead. His own hair barely grows past half an inch of coarse fuzz, and he’s always been fascinated with Meridan’s mop of locks. “Want to start back where we left off? Because I certainly do.”

         “Actually, I have a proposition.” He gives Garrit a light kiss on the cheek. “Remember what we were talking about earlier?” A nod. “I want that.”

         “You said you weren’t sure.”

         “Well, some things happened between then and now. I’ve made up my mind about what I want.”

         “And what you want is sex.”

         “Yes. With you. Tonight. Do _you_ still want it?”

         “Of course.” Garrit closes his eyes. “I didn’t say it then, but I’ve never... I’m a virgin too.”

         “So we’ll figure it out together.” He puts both hands on Garrit’s face and leans in for a deeper kiss, but his boyfriend pulls back.

         “Tell me exactly what you want, Mer.”

         Meridan hates this part, expressing his desires in words, because the logical part of his brain doesn’t seem to link up particularly well with his emotions. He’d just rather feel his way through things, stumbling around and hoping no one got hurt. He stares up at the ceiling, trying to figure out precisely what he wants to have happen. “I want you in me.”

         Garrit is obviously surprised, and he has to repeat it. “You want me to have you first?” This is clearly not what he was expecting.

         “Yes.”

         “Why?”

         Meridan shrugs. “I love you. I want to show you. And I don’t want to hurt you at all.” Tonight, he’d rather be the one to put up with pain than the one causing it. He’s had plenty already, but if he has to deal with more, he feels like it would be fine coming from Garrit.

         “I don’t want to hurt you either, you know,” Garrit points out.

         “I’m sure I’ve had worse. And not for love.”

         Just yesterday, this statement would have seemed overdramatic. But now Garrit looks at Meridan and sees the ache in his eyes, the need for something good tonight. And he’s not sure if he can deliver, but he sure as hell wants to try. So they stop talking now, start trading words in for kisses. Meridan stands up and walks to the other room, letting Garrit follow him silently, holding his hand. He lies down on the bed, hissing when his bandaged back hits the cool sheets. Garrit looks down at him, concerned. “Is this going to be alright? Because you can be on your stomach.”

         “No. I don’t want you looking at… my back during this. Just… Distract me.” As Garrit lubes his fingers up and starts to get him ready, Meridan adds, “And I want to see your face.” That sounds much better than _I don’t want you to see the injuries I sustained from being with you._

         Garrit rolls his eyes, showing that his pupils are now nearly dark enough to match his skin tone. “I’m going to look like an idiot.”

         “I’m sure I will, too.”

         It does hurt; Meridan wonders if there’s any way around that, especially the first time. He’s never had anything more than Garrit’s fingers in him, and those only go so far. The look on Garrit’s face is blissful at first, then concerned when Meridan winces and hisses. He pauses where he is, not going any further. “You okay, Mer?”

         “Yeah, just give me a moment.”

         “Does it hurt much?”

         Meridan nods a little, and Garrit looks like he’s about to pull out, but Mer stops him by wrapping his legs around the backs of his boyfriend’s thighs. “Don’t go anywhere. I still want this.”

         “But—”

         Meridan gives him a sharp look which shuts him up. Then he focuses on controlling his breaths and finds himself relaxing. “Now.”

         “Now?”

         “Yes, damn it, _now_ , Garrit.” He breathes out as Garrit presses in all the way. “Oh.”

         “‘Oh’?”

         Meridan looks up and smiles. “That’s nice.” And that’s when Garrit allows himself to start enjoying it, pleasure apparent on his face.

         “Fucking hell, Mer.” He tilts his hips and moans. “This is amazing. You’re perfect.”

         “So are you.”

         Garrit begins thrusting rhythmically into him. “I can’t believe this is happening. It’s too good. You’re going to love having me.” He’s holding both of Meridan’s knees for leverage. “Touch yourself a little. I want to watch while I’m… in you.”

         And Meridan watches and feels Garrit fuck him while he strokes himself slowly. He feels fragile, like any little thing could either break him or make him complete. It’s probably a side effect of love coupled with giving up his virginity. “I love you, Garrit,” he murmurs. If it’s desperate to proclaim love during sex, he doesn’t care. And this is hardly the first time they’ve used the word with each other.

         Garrit responds by bending down and kissing him lightly. “I love you too, Mer. So very much.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to wait.”

         “Wait?” Is he supposed to know what Garrit’s talking about? Because Meridan is having trouble with abstract thoughts right now. It doesn't help that Garrit is leaning over him, starting to fuck the breath out him one thrust at a time.

         “To come. So you can have me when I’m done with you.”

          _Oh, Maker. I’m going to lose my damn mind tonight._ “Yes. I think… I think I can do that.”

         “Fuck. I’m gonna… Can I? Come inside you?”

         “Yes, of course, Garrit.” Meridan listens as his boyfriend’s breath becomes bated, holds for a moment, and then returns in an explosive groan. He can feel the wet heat spreading inside him, and it’s all so intimate that he isn’t surprised to realize he’s crying a little. Soon Garrit fully collapses onto Meridan, then slowly rolls off onto his back.

         Meridan leans over him now, grinning mischievously. “You want me to take you the same way?” He wets a finger with the lube and slides it in without preamble.

         Garrit nods and moans immediately. “Maker, Maker, Mer…”

         “It’s just my finger, Garrit,” he points out needlessly.

         “I know, but everything feels so good right now.” He’s not sure he can express how sensitive he is at the moment, how all his nerve endings feel raw and exposed. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for this, he thinks as Meridan wiggles a second finger inside him. He’s already a mess, and soon he’s going to come completely undone. “Fuck, Mer, fuck me.” He’s wailing, and he would be embarrassed but he has no energy for that now; his entire focus is on Meridan.

         “I’m working on it, Garrit.” And he is, but he’s having trouble getting the angle right. So Garrit turns over and gets on his hands and knees. Meridan stands by the foot of the bed behind him and enters much more smoothly than he expected—and deeper than he was planning. Garrit shudders and stifles a pained cry with a fist. “Are you okay?” Meridan asks, watching his boyfriend nod his head silently. “I know. It stops hurting soon, though. Let me know when.” He just stands still, holding Garrit’s waist as he waits.

         After about ten seconds, Garrit nods again. “Go ahead.”

         Meridan pushes experimentally. “Oh, fuck, _Garrit_.” It isn’t long before he’s gripping Garrit’s hips and thrusting hard and fast, pulling the other boy back onto his cock with each slam inside.

         “I told you so,” Garrit manages between moans.

         Later, once Meridan has fallen asleep on the bed beside him, Garrit lifts the sheets and takes a good look at his boyfriend's back. The bandages didn’t cover everything to begin with, and now they’re peeling off from sweat and the friction of rubbing against the mattress. Meridan Noro is going to carry scars from today for the rest of his life.

          _Because of me. Because I couldn’t keep my lips off his. Shouldn’t have kissed him in his house. Shouldn’t have kissed him ever._

         But he can’t believe that last part. He feels everything too strongly, always has. Right now he’s overwhelmed by a mixture of joy and fear. Despite all his family’s money, he’s never had something he wanted to hold onto so much as Meridan, and he’s terrified of losing what they’ve got. He wants to embrace him, but he’s afraid the pain will wake Mer up. So instead he just lays back down and starts crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added content: consensual underage sex
> 
> Content warning: Discussion of homophobia and child abuse.
> 
> Just for the record, I despise hiking.


	5. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See End Notes for warnings.

“I don’t think the general is going to forgive me for that fuel usage kerfuffle,” Nik griped. “I’m going to feel like an idiot for months.”

         “It didn’t help that you tried to shift the blame,” Meridan pointed out matter-of-factly. He wasn’t trying to be a jerk about this, just honest.

         “I know, and I’m still sorry for that. I wasn’t ready to confront him about anything.”

         This was where Huula turned to chime in. “To be honest, you brought a vibroblade to a blaster fight. To go toe-to-toe with General Hux, you have to know what you’re doing.”

         At the mention of weapons, Meridan reflexively reached for his right hip to check his sidearm, but only noticed he was doing it when he felt its absence. He choked down a brief moment of panic, remembering the first and last time his blaster went missing. _No weapons on the Bridge,_ he explained to himself, but the damage was already done _._ The memory was back, dragging all the attendant horror and guilt right along with it.

_Fuck._

         He struck out against the nearest light panel before he realized what he was doing. Withdrawing his hand, he hardly registered the sound of shattering glass. His breaths were deep, almost labored.

         Nik had yelped and jumped back from the neighboring console—Meridan had noticed but couldn’t find it in himself to care.

          _You utter bastard. Why can’t I forget you?_ _Why can’t I forget what I let happen? Or, barring that, forgive myself?_

_Because I should have seen it coming. I should have known you were getting ready to leave._

He flexed his fist and that was when he first felt a sensation other than pulsing rage. Pain. He looked down to see a few shards embedded in the lacerated skin. His knuckles were bleeding more than he’d expected.

_Love you. Hate everything else._

         “Ensign.” The voice from behind him was steady, cool, and entirely unnerving. _Hux._

“General.” Meridan sounded much more collected than he felt.

         “What the hell happened here?”

         Meridan finally relaxed his fingers and wiggled them a little. The blood flowed more freely now and started to drip to the floor. He cradled his injured hand in the opposite palm, trying to catch the blood, and turned to face the most important man in the military. “I… I lost control, sir.” Although the whole situation felt unreal, he was aware enough to realize that he had just stated the obvious. This was something he scorned in others, but he could hardly give a proper explanation at the moment. Nor was the Bridge the right place to divulge the reason he’d never returned home after departing for the Academy.

         For his part, Hux considered hitting Noro, but decided that if violence was the issue at hand, it wouldn’t do to attempt to counter it with more. And he saw the lost look in the ensign’s eyes, recognized that the man wasn’t entirely present. Any punishment meted out now would likely be ineffective; it would probably hardly register. “Stop bleeding onto my Bridge, Ensign. You are dismissed for the rest of the shift. Head to Medical immediately to get patched up. And report to my office at 2100.”

 

As Meridan walked to the Medbay, he fumed at himself. How much leniency could he expect from General Hux now? He’d already required forgiveness once already. He’d only been here two months.

          _Tone your shit down, Meridan. You don’t need to make everything around you as broken as you are. Don’t bring things down to your level._

         His breath hitched a little. He clenched the fingers of his right hand to feel something other than disappointment. _Idiot, idiot,_ he repeated to himself like a bitter mantra in time with his steps.

         As the droid plucked the remaining splinters of glass from his hand, sterilized the cuts, and placed four sutures, Meridan reported the incident to a medical assistant who did a poor job of pretending to believe his account. A nurse offered him an analgesic, which he politely refused. He didn’t want his sensations dulled; the whole point was to distract himself with them. Physical pain was more pleasant than his memories—by a longshot.

          _Accidental self-injury due to unsecured lighting fixture on Bridge. Ensign M. Noro tripped over a loose cord, flailed with his right hand to regain balance, and sustained twelve lacerations to the dorsal surface of the digits and hand._

The assistant neglected to ask why his wild “flailing” hand had not sustained any injury to the palm or underside of his fingers, and Meridan was grateful for that.

         He was instructed not to wear his right glove for a few days, so he went without both. He didn’t want to look unbalanced. _Plenty unbalanced on the inside._

 

He pressed the intercom to Hux’s office and was buzzed in without an interchange. He stepped into the office for the second time, for a second talking to, and waited. The endorphins from the injury were wearing off, making him acutely aware of exactly how exhausted he was. _So tired._

         Hux was standing by the outer wall, gazing out the viewport. “Ensign Noro.”

         “Yes, sir.”

         “Stand beside me.”

         Meridan walked up and took his place next to Hux. He stared out the port with his superior. He wanted to launch into an apology to get it over with, but he was waiting for Hux. _All apologies, sir._ He wished he could stop rephrasing the letter in his head.

         “I understand that you’re angry.” He turned his head toward Meridan. “Although I don’t know your full history, I imagine you to be well justified in your rage. But things as they are will not stand, Ensign.” He paused. “That’s why I’d like you to train with me.”

         “Sir?” The surprise, evident in his voice, was also written on his face.

         “You need to hone your anger. Put it to good use, because it’s dangerous unchecked.” He stepped in a little and lowered his voice. “For illustration, have you seen Kylo Ren in action?”

         “No, sir. Not yet.”

         “A single word of advice, then: If you ever see him on this ship with his saber drawn, run. Or duck. Both, if you can manage it at the same time.” Meridan smiled a little. “I can’t have you acting out like that. You need to learn to control it.” He held out his hand. “So spar with me.”

         The ensign shook his hand, wincing at the pressure on his fresh wounds. “Thank you, sir. For the opportunity to better myself.”

         Hux chuckled. “This is mostly for my sake, Noro. I can’t have everyone on board willfully damaging my property. Eventually Accounts Payable is going to cut me off.”

 

As Ensign Noro took his leave, General Hux turned back to the port with his hands clasped behind his back. Lord Ren had his silly methods of meditation, but Hux had always found that all he needed to clear his mind was to watch the stars do absolutely nothing. The expansiveness of space was cold and quiet, something he’d always striven to mirror in his own life. Whether or not he’d obtained that goal inwardly, he knew he exuded a sense of order and control when around others, especially in uniform. That, in turn, calmed him.

         But now he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Yes, technically he was perfectly aware of what he’d just asked Noro; after all, he’d been considering it the whole afternoon. He just wasn’t certain why he was pursuing this and was concerned the situation might already be spinning out of his control. By this point, he was more than aware that he was attracted to the ensign; he’d admitted that to himself days ago. It had been quite some time since he’d… engaged with someone under his direct authority, and he could rationalize all he wanted but it wouldn’t change the fact that it was against policy and certainly ill-advised. Now that he was a general, there were few personnel who _weren’t_ under his direct authority. He could list them on one hand, and the only relatively attractive person among them was Kylo Ren. He smiled and shook his head at that thought. _I’m not touching that particular bag of crazy until everyone else in the galaxy is dead._ So that left civilians or underlings. And he didn’t have much contact with civilians these days.

         Of course, he could back off at any time if he wanted to. Nothing was forcing his hand. They could go ahead and spar, but nothing more. He did have a feeling that hand-to-hand training would help Noro work out some of his anger, but the truth was that was only a secondary motivation. Mostly he wanted to screw Noro up against the wall of his office. Or perhaps across his desk. Both, maybe. The ensign had trouble with impulse control, and Hux suspected that characteristic would translate into enthusiastic sex—at least that had been his experience in the past. Also, as unprofessional as it would be, that sort of activity would probably help with the officer’s anger issues, as well as Hux’s annoyance at the latest deluge of paperwork that was threatening to drown him. _I really need to start trusting Mitaka with more of this administrative banthashit_ , he reminded himself. Fetching his datapad, he made a note to have his lieutenant fill out some of the supply requisition forms that had been stacking up. If it went well, he could start regularly delegating that one task at least. He always had trouble giving up control of his projects, but he had to admit that he was becoming overwhelmed and not all the documentation really required a general’s personal oversight.

         Now that he was off duty and the meeting with Meridan was finished, Hux knew he should head over to his quarters for the evening, but he was having trouble tearing himself away from space. _You have a port in your own damn bedroom_ , he reminded himself, but it wasn’t as large and didn’t impart the same feeling of bleak grandiosity as this one. And he didn’t feel as in control in his rooms because he didn’t feel like they were really part of his ship. Not for the first time, he wished he didn’t have to sleep so that he could live on the bridge. Sighing, he gathered his datapad, draped his greatcoat over his shoulders, and headed out.

* * *

Asja Byri stared at her ale miserably. It had been a long day for her as well, and her hair reflected that. Meridan broke the silence.

         “General Hux asked me to train with him.”

         Her expression betrayed horror and jealousy at the same time. It was an amusing look. “He. What.”

         “I’m not sure why, but he seems to think sparring would be useful. Because of my anger issues. Maybe he’s right.”

         “Oh gods, you stupid idiot. He likes you.”

         “I’m sure it’s nothing personal. It’s just because I broke that light.”

         She clicked her glass down on the counter in a rather confrontational manner. “You don’t get it. _He. Likes. You._ ”

         His eyes narrowed at her insistence. “What do you know?”

         She shrugged noncommittally. “I’ve heard stories.”

         He leaned in now, overwhelmed by curiosity, and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. “What stories?”

         “A few years ago our general took an interest in one of the recon snipers. And suddenly the guy never spent the night in his guest quarters when he stayed on board.”

         “Wait a moment. Two things. First, Hux is gay?”

         She shrugged again. “Gay enough to fuck men.”

         “And secondly, fraternization?”

         “Apparently the guy was _really_ hot.” She grinned and punched him on the shoulder. “Hotter than you, at any rate.”

         “He must have been something, since I know you have an unrequited thing for me.”

         Finishing her ale, she gave Mer a sideways glance and said, “I hope you’re ready for our general to turn your sparring session into something else.”

         In response, he put his head in his hands and groaned dramatically. “Oh Maker, what the holy hell have I gotten myself into?”

* * *

 At the end of his shift five days later, Hux strode up to Meridan and spoke without introduction. “Let me see your hand, Ensign.”

         Meridan removed his right glove and held his bare hand out to the General. Hux took it gently but firmly by the wrist and stepped in for closer inspection.

         “When are the sutures coming out?”

         “In two days, sir.” The ensign tried not to think about the fact that Hux’s hand was touching his own, but the man’s skin was remarkably cool.

         Hux nodded. “Good. It’s healing well.”

         “Do you have a medical background, General?” Meridan asked, purely out of curiosity.

         Hux let go of him, but Meridan could still feel where the general’s fingertips had held him. “I have some experience in emergency and combat medicine. Anyway, we should be able to start training next week. I’ll reserve a room for us.”

         And then he walked away, leaving the ensign puzzled but oddly pleased.

 

_Medical background. Experience in combat medicine._

         Hux snorted at his datapad, which he had open to detailed specs on some current weapons R&D.  _Fantastic. Why don’t you just share your whole life story in the corridor?_

 _Fucking live fire training. What, did they think recruits were a renewable resource?_ _Apparently so. Idiots, keeping the worst aspects of Imperial education when they no longer had the materiel to sustain it._

         The letters in front of him gradually became strangely difficult to keep in focus. He didn’t want to admit what this meant. But soon he found himself pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling the actual headache beginning to bear down on him. Setting his pad aside, he headed to the bedroom. He pulled open a drawer and removed a spray ampoule. Placing it against a nostril, he pressed the actuator and inhaled. He hated relying on pharma, but there was no use in suffering a migraine tonight. He could power through one if absolutely necessary—he’d done it before, during battle when he couldn’t leave the bridge. But he’d rather not vomit if he could avoid it. Tossing the spent cartridge in the rubbish bin, he removed his uniform, carefully folded it away, and laid down on the bed.

         “Control: Run migraine protocol.”

         In response, the room dimmed, cooled, and all electronics shut off their humming as they went into power-saving mode. Hux felt the usual creep of lightheadedness from the medication. And now he was too weak and too tired to keep his memories at bay.

_He’s on standby when his comm sputters to life._

_—Declan. My location. Now._

_Only one candidate here calls him Declan. His heartbeat immediately becomes erratic as he punches the relayed coordinates into his map. He’s on his way before he really has time to think about what must be happening._

_Seachnall lays crumpled up against a wall. He’s managed to drag himself to decent cover. But Hux can see a trail of blood stretching about five meters along the ground and he feels like he’s been punched in several vital organs at once. He manages to get down and start pulling off the candidate’s scorched flak jacket in tatters. Seachnall coughs and grimaces at being shifted._

_“Sorry,” Hux whispers. “I have to assess the damage.”_

_He hisses when he sees it. The jacket itself was shredded, but the flesh underneath is a far worse sight. Seachnall must have taken three or four rifle bolts to the abdomen. If it weren’t for all the blood, Hux knows he could see Seachnall’s stomach and intestines. What use was the fucking jacket anyway? All it did was prevent him from dying instantly. It just dragged out the misery._

_“Shit.”_

_“That bad, love?” Seachnall murmurs._

_Hux doesn’t respond because he’s too busy going through his kit. His hands find a large hemostat sheet, rip it open, and press the bandage over about half of Seachnall’s wounds. The other boy howls as it cauterizes the exposed tissue on contact._

_“Sorry. Chemical burns.” This is already the second time he’s apologized. He never apologizes for his work. Medics don’t feel sorry for helping, for doing what they can. But Hux does this time. Because it’s Seachnall, and because what he can do isn’t nearly enough. He knows that already, even as he uses another bandage to cover the rest of the damage. This time his boyfriend just whimpers. It’s impressive that he hasn’t passed out yet, but he’s made it through a year of officer training at Arkanis Academy and that does a lot to harden a person._

_Now that the bleeding’s slowed to a steady seep, Hux finds a syringe and a vein and gives him a healthy dose of morphine. He doesn’t bother with an alcohol swab since he doesn’t want to delay the pain relief any longer. Later he’ll throw a packet away to make it look like he followed protocol. No use following universal precautions against infection now. He considers placing a line for fluids, because Seachnall’s lost more than enough blood to put him in immediate danger of end-organ ischemia_ , _but Hux knows the increase in blood pressure will raise the risk of rebleeding, and then it’ll all just leak out anyway. And it won’t make him feel much better. Plus he’ll have to elevate the bag with one arm, and then he won’t be able to hold Seachnall the way he knows he’ll need to. But Hux wants desperately to do something, anything, and he wants it to work. If the fake—but all too deadly—battle weren’t still raging around them, he might be able to get the other boy to the mobile surgical unit in time. But there’s no chance they can get out of here without them both being killed along the way, even with the orders not to target medevacs. He tries to pretend that Seachnall was accidentally hit four times in the abdomen in a short period of time—from slightly different angles, meaning different shooters in close proximity to one another. Sure they weren’t aiming together. Hux is still young, but he knows how the galaxy works. Worse, he knows how people work._

_“Hey, Declan.” Seachnall smiles up at him._

_“Hey yourself.”_

_“Prognosis?” Wounded and drugged as he is, he can still read Hux’s face. “Fuck.”_

_“Yeah. How are you feeling?”_

_“Like I’m dying. The pain’s better,_   _though. Thank you."_ _He smiles and Hux is fairly certain it’s the saddest thing he’s seen in his life. “Hold me?” he suggests._

_Tears are running down Hux’s face as he takes Seachnall in his arms like he’s been aching to since he arrived. He supposes it doesn’t matter if he moves him now._

_“Talk to me, Declan.”_

_Hux kisses Seachnall’s hair and murmurs anything and everything that comes to mind. “We’re leaving. We’ll disappear. I don’t know what we’ll do, but it sure as shit isn’t this. I’ll go to med school. You can go into engineering. Design bridges or some other fucking thing. We’ll be ordinary. I don’t care. Because I love you so fucking much.”_

_Seachnall coughs, bringing up a stream of bright blood. He’s still beautiful. Hux reaches a hand over and wipes Seachnall’s lips off as best he can. Then he leans down and kisses him. Seachnall puts a weak hand on Hux’s shoulder, trying to push him off in case he coughs more blood into his mouth. “Declan.”_

_“Yes?”_

_“I’m cold.” He shudders against Hux despite the suns beating down on them. “Glad you’re here. Love you.” He doesn’t say anything after that. He continues to shake, then he stills. His body has given up on trying to keep him warm. Then, piece by piece, it gives up on everything else._

_Hux gives up too. Eventually the exercise is over. He calls in an ambulance to remove Seachnall’s body, and he accompanies it because there’s nowhere else to go._

_He doesn’t leave the Academy or the Order; there’s no reason to now. No one worth being ordinary for. He rides out the rest of the semester to prove he can, then drops the surgery track. He switches into the standard officer program, just like his father always expected. There are openings after the live fire exercise—there always are. He’s nineteen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> Accidental self-harm and allusion to past badness.  
> Graphic description of traumatic injury and combat medicine.  
> Note on naming: I have a thing for traditional Irish names, so hopefully you can put up with that.


	6. Sparring Sessions

As usual, Hux rose from his migraine stupor entirely refreshed. It was an odd aftereffect from three hours spent prostrated on his bed in the silent dark, but he wasn’t complaining. He stood up and reached for his datapad to do some engineering research. But he found he had an overabundance of energy that rendered him too restless to focus on reading. And he shouldn’t work out right now because the medication he’d taken lowered his blood pressure and he hadn’t eaten since lunch. If he exercised in this state he’d have a greater than even chance of passing out. His thoughts turned to the man he was planning on working out with next week. The curly hair and the determined, rather cross expression he often wore when he thought no one was looking. The ways Hux could think of to wipe that look right off his face.

         Well, that was something he could do with his overabundance of energy. He didn’t usually enjoy taking care of himself—he did it because it was better than remaining distracted when there were no other options available, but it wasn’t an activity he looked forward to anymore. After twenty years of masturbation and dozens of partners, he’d take the latter at any given moment. Alone, he had nothing to learn or teach. There was no power play, no one to control but himself, and he’d mastered that particular lesson over a decade ago.

         But now… This might be the farthest he’d get with Meridan Noro. He hadn’t allowed himself even this much yet—he had a rule about not fantasizing about men who might be straight. Having gone down that road before, knowing it didn’t end well for either party, he was determined to avoid it at all costs. But now he knew that Meridan was gay, and had known it since he was a teenager. The boy had suffered for it; he was estranged from his father because of it. And he’d told Hux that much. As far as the general was concerned, that gave him the go ahead to wank off to the thought of him.

         So he settled into his lounge chair, kicked a foot up onto the divan, and slid a hand into his pajama pants. Without even trying, he pictured Meridan vividly, in uniform, down on hands and knees in front of him. It was a good start; Hux was already half-hard at that image. And in his head, he didn’t need to ask Meridan permission for anything, because the ensign already wanted everything he did. That was a pleasant element of fantasies—there was no need for explicit consent or safewords. Hux had learned their value the wrong way, but he still enjoyed imagining scenarios in which they were unnecessary.

         In Hux’s head, Meridan wanted to be choked, and the general was happy to oblige—with his cock. A hand tugging on dark curls, pulling the ensign in as close as possible. All the way down to the hilt. Quiet gulping noises. Meridan’s tongue and throat working in enthusiastic unison, saliva running down Hux’s balls to drip onto the floor. The redhead let his hand go—and Meridan remained right where he was. The young officer was testing himself, seeing how long he could keep Hux down his throat before he had to pull off for a breath. And he was loving this nearly as much as Hux was. The general recognized that he was probably transferring Birtrem’s skills to his current interest, and reminded himself that if things ever got this far, he couldn’t expect this level of ability from the new ensign. And sure, he could switch to imagining fucking his inferior officer in handcuffs, but the blowjob fantasy was working so very well…

         His breath caught in his throat. “Uh, gods, you filthy fucking whore,” he moaned into the empty room. “Take it all. Take everything I have for you.” He tilted his hips into his hand repeatedly as he climaxed, catching his come in the other palm. Then he painstakingly began licking his hand clean, imagining the ejaculate was Meridan’s after he’d rewarded the man for sucking him off like the good slut he was.

* * *

 “This is a private training room, Ensign. I think it would be helpful if we were to drop all formalities here. No ‘sirs’, no titles, no pulled punches. Agreed?”

         Meridan nodded. “Agreed.”

         Hux dropped his duffel to the bench and undid his belt and tunic. Meridan took that moment to turn in order to focus on changing his own clothes.

          _Damn, I didn’t account for sharing the locker room._

         He paid attention to swapping his own uniform for the standard-issue athletic gear he’d brought, trying not to think about Hux changing trousers on the other side of the bench. Once he turned around, all his calming techniques failed him. Hux was standing in black sweatpants and undershirt, identity tags tapping lightly against his pale chest. He brushed a few fingers through his hair.

         Meridan swallowed. _Shit. Is this what he looks like in his quarters, at the end of the day? He looks much younger out of uniform._

         “Let’s get going, Meridan.”

          _Fuck. We go from full-on formality to first name basis in ten minutes._ He paused to think and realized he didn’t know the general’s given name.

 

Hux had him on the mat in under four minutes. “Yield.”

         Meridan sighed heavily and tried to ignore the general’s breath on his neck. “I yield.”

         “You have youth and recent training on your side, Meridan. We should be more evenly matched. You just need to control yourself.”

         “I’m fucking trying, Hux.”

         Hux patted his head indulgently. “That’s cute.”

         Meridan found the gesture obnoxious. “If anything, you’re making me angrier.”

         “Cope.” Hux sat up but kept his legs tightly wrapped around the ensign’s waist. “Now get me off.”

         Meridan managed to think two things at once: 1) _What?_ and 2) _Yes._ “Sorry?”

         Hux coughed, a blush beginning to work its way up his neck. “Push me off of you,” he clarified. Meridan tried; he really did. It didn’t work.

 

After their first session ended, Meridan thanked the general and returned to his quarters immediately. He didn’t think he could handle the locker room again, especially with its shared showering facilities. Sweaty and tired, he was pretty certain that he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off Hux’s bare chest—or anything else.

         In the fresher, he decided to use a portion of his water ration, figuring the hot water would reduce muscle pain the next day. While the stiffness dissipated from his body, he found himself replaying the match he’d just lost. He could now pinpoint several moments where he might have gained the upper hand if he’d been paying more attention to Hux’s movements instead of striking out more or less blindly against his opponent.

         But he kept returning to the flush that had crept onto the general’s cheeks after his awkwardly phrased command. Had that simply been embarrassment? Or something more?

         Meridan chose to imagine it meant something, at least while he was showering. As the rest of his body relaxed, his dick gave an involuntary twitch. He brought his hand down and stroked himself to hardness. With the limits on water consumption for junior officers, he didn’t have the luxury of wasting time and resources with self-restraint. So he focused on the prominent cheekbones, red hair against pale skin, haughty green-blue eyes, patronizing vocal patterns…

         His thoughts turned to the way Hux had put his hands on him with skillful violence. He’d never had a partner take control the way he imagined the general would. After all his years of physical training, late hours studying, and punishing drive, he longed to get lost in sex. Not a relationship—Maker knew he wasn’t ready for that. Just pure, feral lust. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining desire underneath the flash of power in Hux’s eyes, but he thought he’d seen something there.

         His breaths came in shallow pants and he leaned against the wall, using his free arm to brace himself. “Fuck, _sir_ ,” he whispered as the water washed his release down the drain.

 

“Get me off,” Hux repeated in a mutter to himself as he blasted himself with the sonic refresher. “Idiot.” Could he have been any more obvious? Surely the ensign had seen the heat in his face—he was well aware that his skin was more or less transparent. Heritage and over a decade spent out of the sun had conspired to keep his skin just this side of pallid. This fact had been made clear every time he’d donated blood, as phlebotomists invariably remarked on his “beautiful and accessible” veins. Which was probably the creepiest compliment he’d ever receive.

         But what did it matter if Noro had noticed? Didn’t that open up the potential for a conversation?

         The general rolled his eyes and sighed to himself. He didn’t want a conversation. What he wanted was to hold Noro against the wall, arms above his head, and give him two options. One: Decline, walk away, and not fear any retaliation. And as for the second… Well, there were plenty of ways he could phrase Option Two.

          _—Let me take control. I’ll give you what you deserve._

_—On your knees. Open that pretty mouth of yours and impress me with it._

          _—Hands against the wall. Trousers down. Legs spread. Take it like the good boy I know you are._

There were so many things he wanted to do to Meridan, he knew that if the young man agreed, he’d have difficulty selecting the order of activities. But for the time being, that was the least of his worries. He was going to need to do something soon, because he couldn’t continue like this indefinitely. The more time he spent casually with Noro, the more he was thinking of the ensign as Meridan. It would end up compromising both his focus and his authority—and if he weren’t getting anything out of it in return, the situation would quickly become untenable.


	7. Down to It

“You’re not concentrating,” Hux criticized after landing a vicious blow to Meridan’s solar plexus.

         The ensign glared at him and breathlessly shot back, “Yes I am.”

         “Shut up and manage to hit me, then.” Meridan threw a left hook at the grinning redhead, who easily took hold of the arm and used his own momentum to swing him to the mat before letting go. “Stop broadcasting your punches! People in the canteen know you’re trying to hit me. And failing miserably.”

         “You’re just trying to piss me off.” Meridan was up again before Hux could keep him down. At least he was able to rebound quickly.

         “Oh, you’re only realizing that now?”

         And then Meridan finally understood. He had to focus, had to calm down, no matter what Hux was saying. His breaths deepened and slowed. He watched Hux closely but didn’t try to land any more hits for the time being. Hux danced in for a right hook and Meridan took the opportunity to kick his ankle out from under him. Hux fell to the mat, his breath temporarily punched out of his lungs by the unexpected fall.

         “There, finally. Yield.” Meridan stretched his hand out, offering Hux leverage up. But Hux hadn’t yielded, so he simply spun his legs out and Meridan fell on top of him. “Asshole,” the ensign muttered.

         Hux rolled over and pinned Meridan to the mat. He was grinning obnoxiously in exultation. “I believe _you_ ought to yield now.”

         “No,” he spat, still trying to force his way back on top, knowing he wasn't going to succeed but not yet prepared to give up.

         “ _Yield_.” Hux’s fists held the young officer’s hands against the mat above his head.

         “I yield,” Meridan finally allowed. “But I’m learning.”

         “Yes, you’re learning, but I still won.”

         “There’s a reason you’re the general and I’m just an ensign.” Meridan tried to rise, but Hux kept him pinned. “I believe I yielded to you,” he said rather pointedly. The general was smiling widely now; it wasn’t a particularly nice expression, but it was doing things to Meridan. As he struggled, he began to appreciate the feeling of Hux’s body against him. Lithe, warm, but still breathing evenly. What would sex with him be like? Controlling, probably. Energetic, obviously.

          “Fight back.”

          “It’s hard to do much of anything when you’re holding me down like this.”

          “Then just keep on struggling lamely. It amuses me.” Hux placed his right hand across Meridan’s windpipe and squeezed just enough to make him stop kicking. Hux’s breath blew hotly on his neck. Meridan moved his one free hand to Hux’s bare shoulder, intending to push against him—but instead the touch just rested there, his fingers instinctively curling around the muscle. He didn’t think he could move much without becoming obviously hard… and sharing that information with his sparring partner.

         “You’re making it very difficult for me to focus,” he stated plainly.

         “Am I?” Hux asked, sounding distant and unconcerned. Then he pressed his pelvis down against his opponent’s. Meridan had been too preoccupied with his own semi-erection to consider that Hux might be similarly afflicted.

         “You too?” he managed by way of comment. The combined heat between their legs was seeping into his central nervous system and short-circuiting his brain.

         The redhead nodded slowly. “Every time I touch you.” Hux pressed his lips against Meridan’s neck for a moment before he opened his mouth and bit down. Meridan yelped. “And I’m not sure I want to stop touching you.”

         “Then don’t,” he gasped as Hux held his chin up and sucked the sweat off his collarbone. “Please don’t.” He hooked an ankle around one of the general’s legs, just in case the man was thinking about letting up.

         Hux caught his lips in a kiss and worked his tongue between them. His grip around Meridan’s wrist moved to his hand and their fingers interlaced. “As much as I’d like to, we can’t do much more of this here.” _Not for reasons of propriety, though. Because I’m getting older and sex on the floor would be murder on my back. And knees. And neck._

         “Where, then? Tell me and I’ll go.”

         Hux’s smile was victorious. “Wash up, put on some fresh clothes, and come to my quarters in one hour. You know where they are? Good. I’ll be awaiting your arrival.”

* * *

Considering it now, standing in the refresher unit, he was probably about to make the stupidest move of his professional career. Four short months into his first posting, here he was, getting ready to be fucked by the single most powerful man in the entire military hierarchy.

          _What if I disappoint him?_

          _Well, then, don’t disappoint him_ , he answered himself. _Problem averted: simple as that._

         He pulled a clean uniform on because he didn’t have anything else to wear. He wasn’t going to show up in another set of workout attire. He checked his hair in the mirror and sighed. It never behaved properly right after a shower; it was too fluffy and curly. He looked about eighteen. Hopefully Hux wouldn’t mind. Giving his reflection a resigned shrug, he headed out.

         If he were to be seen entering Hux’s quarters at this hour, would word get around? Almost certainly. How difficult would that make things for him? Meridan almost stopped in the hallway to reconsider. Then he recalled the flash of Hux’s eyes as he’d been held against the floor, and the ensign hurried along his way as quickly as professionalism would allow.

         He pressed the buzzer but didn’t hear its chime because his heartbeat was too busy thudding in his ears. The door slid open, and there he was. Hux, back in uniform, looking for all the world like he’d never been flushed or out of breath in his life. “Come in,” he invited. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the couch. “Would you care for a drink?”

         “Please. Whatever you’re having.”

         “Corellian brandy. Not the best vintage, but it’ll suffice.” Hux poured another glass and handed it over. He watched as Meridan took a sip. “How old are you?”

         “Twenty-two.” He briefly wondered how old Hux was. It was hard to guess—he looked anywhere between his mid-twenties or late-thirties, but considering his rank and achievements, he was probably on the higher end of that range. Meridan had never been with someone significantly older than himself, and he tried to imagine what that age difference would mean.

         “The brandy is nineteen. Could be a sibling of yours.” He took a swig from his own glass and set it down with a quiet clink. “Alright, before anything more happens, I have to give you the spiel.”

         “About?”

         “Regulations.” Meridan let out a quiet chuckle with a roll of his eyes. “I know, I know. But I’m your superior officer, you’re directly under my command, and we really shouldn’t become involved.”

         “And yet—?”

         “And yet, I’m discovering that I personally don’t give a shit about certain regulations, especially where they concern you. However, there’s still an undeniable power differential in play. I want you to know that you may back out at any time and I will not retaliate.”

         “I don’t want to back out, sir. I’m here for a reason.”

         “Please, it’s Hux. When we’re alone. And drinking. And planning on… amusing each other. Tell me, Meridan, how experienced are you?”

         “Sexually, you mean?” Hux nodded. “I’ve had nine partners.”

         The general leaned over to brush a stray curl out of the young officer’s face. “How many have…  I don’t want to use crude language here… Penetrated you?”

         “Seven.” Meridan guessed Hux’s question was an attempt to find out whether he tended to top or bottom. He’d already figured the general for a top, but one could never tell for sure. Not until you shared a bed. Or backseat, or floor.

         “Who was the last?”

         Meridan laughed humorlessly. “A friend from the Academy. Not gay. He just kept coming to me when he was confused and upset. We never… not until the very last night, when we were about to ship out. I had my mouth on him when he asked to fuck me.”

         “And then you never saw or heard from him again.”

         “That’s correct.”

         “But he wasn’t gay.” Hux swirled the liquid around the bottom of his glass, looking down through it to the floor. “Oh, don’t straight men just make the most exasperating partners. Especially when they’re your friends. That unwitting combination of compliment and insult. ‘Only for you, you’re the only man I’d ever be with… I just need to get off, you understand. And you know what to do.’” He shook his head, dismissing a memory.

         “Someone used you once.”

         “It’s been a while. Not since my own Academy years.”

         “At Arkanis.”

         “Yes. I’m sorry. This conversation took a sad turn very quickly.”

         “Then let’s not talk at all,” Meridan suggested. At the invitation, Hux leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Meridan’s lips. The ensign sighed, opened his mouth, and let the general in. Hux gently pressed him back against the armrest, searching his mouth with his tongue. Meridan wrapped his arms around Hux’s waist, rubbing his back, folding him closer. Then Hux’s fingers were on his belt, unbuckling it and slipping it off. He rolled it up and placed it neatly on the side table before his hands returned for the clasps on Meridan’s tunic. Suspenders pulled down, the undershirt lifted over his head. Hux took a moment to appraise the younger man’s bare chest and brush his knuckles across the nipples before wrapping his arms around his waist and moving him onto his lap. He gripped the chain that held Meridan’s identity tags to make sure he had the ensign’s full attention. “Now. Please me,” he whispered into Meridan’s ear before giving the lobe a quick nip with his teeth.

         “Yes, General.” _Definitely a top. No surprises there._ Meridan cupped a hand against Hux’s crotch, gauging his size under the trousers. _Substantial but not intimidating._ He ran kisses across Hux’s pale throat. “Shall I suck you off, sir?” Despite their earlier conversation, Meridan found himself returning to Hux's title and honorifics. But there was something more to it than pure regulations now; it spoke of a promise to submit, to behave and perform as desired.

         Hux nodded in quick assent. “Yes. See that you do.”

         Meridan slid to the floor, his hands on the general’s belt now. He followed his superior’s lead and set it beside his own on the table. Hux removed his own tunic and undershirt. Quickly and gracefully, Meridan opened Hux’s trousers and slid down his briefs. Hux’s cock sprang out and bounced once against his stomach. Meridan smiled to himself as he ran his index finger up and down the general’s length, then opened his lips and took him in. Hux arched his back reflexively as his cock slid inside Meridan’s mouth. “Good boy,” he rasped, sounding authoritative but pleased. “Ah, yes. That's it, you sweet thing.”

         The ensign sighed, a private noise of appreciation. Hux tasted like a shower after a workout, clean but still warm and a touch salty. As he sucked in his cheeks, he listened to the quiet noises Hux was making, the almost inaudible gasps, and knew he was off to a good start. Then he dipped and bobbed his head, adjusting his angle, and brought his lips flush against Hux’s skin. The general made a louder, wordless noise, then laid a hand on top of Mer’s head and just rested it there, feeling it rise and fall with the ensign’s gulping mouth.

         Hux refrained from thrusting his hips or pulling the man’s face down—he let Meridan set the pace and surrendered to it. There’d be plenty of time for control later, so he just enjoyed what was happening. He certainly hadn’t been expecting Meridan to go so far down their first time doing this. All he’d been hoping for was a halfway decent blowjob, not full-on deep-throating. There was no way Ensign Noro wasn’t having trouble breathing, but he certainly wasn’t letting it show or interfere. Hux’s jerk-off fantasy from weeks ago seemed prescient now. He imagined the other men Meridan must have brought off like this, and wondered how many of them deserved it. Very few, he guessed.

         As Hux’s climax steadily built, he decided not to drag things out. It felt so very right, and if he edged without explanation it might make Meridan suspect he weren’t doing this properly. There was no need to cause undue concern about his performance. Hux wouldn’t hesitate to correct missteps, but so far Noro wasn’t making any. Right now, the general wanted to spill into Meridan’s mouth, wanted to feel the man swallow it all down.

         The ensign must have sensed the redhead was close, so he sped up and Hux closed his eyes and began murmuring, “Meridan. Meridan,” as he came, his hips jerking involuntarily and his fist closing tightly around Noro’s curls.

         Meridan swallowed and returned to the couch, leaning against his commanding officer. “Thank you,” Hux sighed and brought his fingers up to trace the young man's swollen lips, then ran them through his wavy brown hair. “How would you like me to take care of you? The same?”

         Ensign Noro flinched and looked startled, like he was actively trying not to be upset. Hux’s wording had gone straight to the pit of his stomach, and not in a pleasant way. “No. No, just touch me, please. I want to look in your face,” he explained. It sounded reasonable although he was in fact dissimilating, fighting nausea and an immediate cold sweat. He shook off half-buried associations as Hux moved him back onto his lap, licked his palm, and reached down between them. The general brought him off quickly. It was efficient but satisfying, and Meridan was able to look Hux in the face the entire time. The redhead’s expression was solicitous instead of proud; he wanted to make sure he was pleasing Meridan.

         “Hux,” he breathed blissfully as he ejaculated onto the man’s hand and bare stomach, beads of come sticking to a sparse red trail. The general brought his hand up to his mouth and cleaned his fingers slowly, one at a time. Meridan watched him, his vision hazy and unfocused. He was having trouble believing this was reality.

         After regaining their breath, they sprawled out on the couch. Hux leaned back and Meridan laid down, bare legs draped across the general’s lap. Hux reached for the brandy and poured more for each of them. Now that they were each less desperate for immediate sex, they were better able to talk about it.

        “How old were you when you gave up your virginity?” Hux asked, rubbing Meridan’s calves. He’d never liked using the verb _lose_ with _virginity_ ; it made it sound as though one had somehow inadvertently misplaced it. Possibly between couch cushions along with loose change.

         “Fourteen. You?”

         “Fifteen. Precocious bastards, weren’t we?”

         “I suppose so. I told you how many partners I’ve had,” Meridan reminded him.

         “You want to know my total?” He watched Meridan nod. “I’m older, you know.”

         “By how much?” Hux glared at him. “Fine. You’re older. And a general. A really well-dressed, powerful, handsome general.” Mer ran a finger up and down Hux’s bare arm, feeling the lean musculature under the man’s pale, freckled skin.

         “Are you getting distracted?”

         “Hm. A bit, yes. But I’m also thinking of all the reasons you’re about to quote me a high number.”

         “I don’t keep a precise tally.” Mer let out a tiny, obvious cough at the blatant lie. The general was known for his eidetic memory. “Fine. It was eighty-five before this evening.”

         Meridan looked a little sad. “I suppose one more is… it’s not really…”

         Hux’s head snapped to look at him carefully. “Not really _what_ , Ensign?”

         “Significant.”

         Hux’s hand darted over to Meridan’s head, grabbed a fistful of hair, and pulled him up into a sitting position. “That’s a foolish, self-pitying thought and you should not entertain it. I do not bed people on a mere whim.” He leaned over and began biting the young man’s neck mercilessly. “Everything I do, I think through. Everything has significance. That includes the marks I’m leaving right now. To remind you of this lesson.”

         “How many—” Meridan was having trouble with words through the bursts of pain and warmth flowing through him. He wanted to ask Hux the reflection of the question he’d answered earlier. “How many men have you fucked?”

         "Eighty-five.” Hux let go of his head but kept playing with his neck.

        _All of them_ , the quick realization dawned on him. _Every last one._ “When… when will you have me?”

         “As soon as I have you on your knees begging for me to take you.”

         Meridan was grateful he was seated—he recognized the sort of words that made his aforementioned knees tremble. “And will you let me have you?”

         “Unlikely. Does that bother you?”

         The ensign smiled. “Not really. I haven’t done that much.” _Translation: only with one person ever._ “Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do with someone like you.” Which was true; he’d been relieved to discover that the general wanted to top him. He looked into Hux’s eyes. “But you… you can do whatever you like with me.”

         “Oh, I certainly intend to, Ensign Noro.”

         Meridan paused as his mind returned to an earlier conversation. “Wait. Eighty-five out of a previous total of eighty-five?”

         “That’s correct.”

         “You fucked the straight guy? At Arkanis?”

         Hux grinned slyly. “Oh, yes. Multiple times.”

         Meridan shook his head in disbelief. “You’re good.”

         “Yes, that’s why they made me a general.”

         “Because you bugger heterosexuals?”

         The redhead stretched his interlaced fingers out in front of him, popping the knuckles back into place. “Among many other talents, Ensign.”


	8. Onwards & Backwards

Meridan had just finished polishing up his dinner and was in the middle of returning his tray onto the conveyor belt when Ensign Byri literally bumped into him. 

         “Sorry. Hey!” She looked up at him and wrinkled her nose in thought. “So what happened?”

         “When? Where?” Meridan glanced around, trying to determine the context of her question. He often felt like Asja Byri started their conversations before he showed up.

         “To your neck, you idiot.” She pointed to the marks peeking out from his collar.

         Feeling a flush creep its way across his face, Meridan made a small coughing noise. “Oh, well.” He lowered his voice to ensure no one else was in danger of overhearing. “Hux happened.”

         “I’m guessing this isn’t some new mouth-to-neck combat move I’m not yet aware of?”

         Meridan shook his head and gestured for her to follow him out into the corridor.

         Once outside, Asja spoke again. “Show me, then,” she demanded. “Open your collar up and give me a look.” As soon as he popped the fastener, she reached up to pull the fabric down and let out a low whistle at the sight. “Cor, Meridan. That’s not a hickey. He _bit_ you. More than once.”

         Redoing his collar, he snapped back with, “Yes, I noticed. Since I happened to be present.”

         “We need a drink because I have to know everything.”

         “Wait. Before we go—” he protested, since Asja was already starting to drag him down the hallwaay by the wrist, “Do you have anything to cover this up?”

         “What, you want a scarf?” She appeared ready to explain exactly how that would break dress regulations.

         “No, like makeup.” He had no idea how this sort of thing worked; he’d never had anything to cover up before.

         Asja eyed him critically. “Yes, but not for you.” She responded to Meridan’s startled look with a quick explanation. “Our skin tones are entirely different. It would just end up drawing more attention to the area. Quit pouting and let’s go already.”

         They waved their passkeys at the door to the lounge to prove neither would be on duty for at least twelve hours. Meridan was informed that he was permitted two units of alcohol; Asja was allowed one. Once they were settled into a booth they started in on their bland ales in silence. Meridan rubbed absently at the raw marks on his neck. “I can’t believe he bit me above the collar.”

         “I can. He probably wants everyone to know you’re taken. To keep them from getting ideas.” She wriggled her fingers in the air for emphasis.

         “He didn’t clear it with me,” Meridan griped.

         “I imagine you’re going to have to play by his rules or not at all. So tell me, when exactly did he savage your neck?”

         “While we were in his quarters.”

         She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Well, I figured it wasn’t in the trash compactor. And I’m going to need plenty more details than that, Ensign Noro.”

         “Filthy voyeur.”

         “Guilty as charged,” she agreed, taking a long pull off her bottle. They’d been provided glasses but she was ignoring hers.

         “Well. At the end of our session, he asked me to his quarters. Actually, he was pinning me to the mat at the time. We started kissing. _Then_ the invite came. Obviously I went.”

         “Obviously.”

         “We had a drink on his couch, but we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

         “Kids these days. Absolutely no self-restraint.” She was grinning like a maniac.

         “Quite.” Meridan politely refrained from mentioning that Asja Byri would surely jump the general herself if he were to express interest. “He asked me to please him.”

         She wondered if she was going to have to drag all the good bits of the story out of him by force. “And what did you do?”

         “Went down on him,” he shared matter-of-factly.

         Asja leaned over the table conspiratorially. “Tell me something, Meridan. Does he match?”

         “Match?” Meridan asked, a little lost.

         “You know. Here,” she pointed to the top of her head then gestured downwards to her lap, “And there?” Her eyebrows were raised for dramatic effect.

         He couldn’t help but smile as he answered, “Yes. Yes, he does.”

         She smiled cryptically, imagining the general entirely unclothed. “Did you finish him that way?”

         A rather proud nod. He knew he was skilled in that department, and was happy to have demonstrated the fact to Hux.

         “Size?”

         “Ideal. Enough to really feel it, but not to cause… undue difficulties.”

         She felt like this might be the way Hux would phrase things, formally but clearly. “So what did he do for you? The same?”

         “He offered.” Meridan was working on the narrative in his head, trying to excise Hux’s actual words from his memory. Since he couldn’t replay the encounter properly if he recalled Hux using the words ‘take care,’ he’d have to replace it with something else. “But I wanted to look in his face. So he used his hands.”

         “And the biting?”

         “That happened later. We were having another drink and talking. I may have annoyed him a little.” What exactly had irked the general so much? _Oh, yes. I downplayed the significance of what we’d done in light of his vast experience._ Meridan reflected on what exactly that experience would mean when it came to penetrative sex. Would the general be disappointed in him? Would his interests be unusual? He could imagine that Hux had developed very particular tastes over the years.

         “Did it hurt?”

         “What does it look like, Asja?” Meridan was grateful that he didn’t have to censor his sarcastic tendencies with Byri; he knew she wouldn’t take it personally. And exercising conversational restraint had always put him on edge, especially when it came to topics like this. He wasn’t used to discussing his sex life, since he’d never had anyone to share it with. The only people he would’ve been at all comfortable talking to were the men he’d gone to bed with.

         “Did you mind, then?” she asked quietly.

         “Surprisingly, no. It’s not something I thought I’d enjoy.”

         She sighed ruefully. “With Hux, though, I imagine I’d enjoy just about anything he wanted.”

         “Whore.” The way Asja stuck out her tongue reminded him of Sulli. “That’s the odd thing, though. I don’t think it’s just him. I think I might like to be... controlled by someone who wants to. It could be pleasant, not having to think for once. Being able to let go of everything except pleasing someone and receiving whatever it is he wants to give.”

         “And the pain?” She was worried about him allowing his past to repeat itself in a different manner, as a method of self-harm by proxy.

         “I can handle pain. But with him, I think it’s more about power than violence.”

         “I bet he’s just looking for an excuse to spank you.”

         He shivered a little at the thought. “That would be… different. No one’s ever…” He shook his head to clear his imagination in order to return to his beer.

         “What’s the closest you’ve come to that sort of thing?”

         His eyebrows knitted in recollection. “I suppose just someone grabbing my hair while he was in my mouth. Guiding me with his hands.”

         “Huh. No one’s even done that to me.”

         “Probably no one’s dared, since any man with half a brain would know you could break him very easily.”

         “So could you.”

         Meridan shrugged. “You’d be surprised, then. At the things that some men think you’re up for, once they see your scars.” He took a large gulp of beer and felt it hit his stomach. “Rough is alright. One time, though, I met a guy at a bar near the Academy. We ended up back at his place and everything was going well. Then I turned my back on him and before I knew it, he’d hit me with his belt.”

         “Shit. What did you do?”

         “I… lost control. I shoved him against the wall and choked him. Then I left.” He frowned, remembering the way he’d whited out with rage and terror, aware that he was screaming but not hearing his own words. “The worst part of it was the way he called out for me to come back. That he was sorry and only did it because he thought I’d like it.”

         Asja frowned as well. “As I understand it, the best way to find out if someone would like something is to ask first.”

         “Yes, but I think some of us are so ashamed of what we want that we’re afraid to say it aloud.” He was speaking from experience, thinking of all the times he’d blindly reached out for someone, desperately hoping for reciprocation. The moments he’d leaned in for a kiss without saying, _I’d like to kiss you_ , the belt buckles he’d slid undone with no words beforehand.

         She let that sink in while they finished their drinks. “Seeing him again soon?”

         “We don’t have anything planned.”

         “I imagine he does. In his schedule, even. Thursday at 2100: Fuck Ensign Noro into unconsciousness.”

         He sighed. “I can only hope.”

* * *

It didn’t take long for Hux to approach him again. Three day cycles later, Meridan was working on some theoretical battle plans—possibly to develop into training sims somewhere down the road—when he sensed more than heard someone behind his chair. He took the time to finish running a flight trajectory model before turning.

         It was Hux was in his greatcoat, looking like he’d been born and raised to wear it. He probably had. “Continue your work, Ensign. I’m just checking in.”

         Meridan returned to the console and was about to pick up where he left off when he felt Hux’s warm breath on his neck as the man leaned down and spoke in his ear.

         “I’d like to see you this evening. How about 2200?” Meridan simply nodded, not trusting his voice to contain his excitement. He was dealing with conflicting sensations as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, signaling a shudder despite the heat blooming in his face and lap. “Is that a yes, Ensign Noro?”

         He swallowed. _Damnit_. “Yes, sir.”

         “Very good. Come to my quarters then.”

         The evening dragged on after that. Meridan was unable to become consumed with his project again, despite how interesting it had been only half an hour ago. He was busy running through other hypotheticals.

          _Does Hux own a pair of handcuffs?_

_Will he choke me again? Do I want him to?_

_How desperately would I have to beg to get him to put his cock in me tonight?_

         Eventually he gave up—it was 2030 anyway—and shut off the console. He headed to the mess hall for a light dinner and then back to his room for a shower. He had to get cleaned up before Hux got him all dirty again.

         When Meridan arrived and buzzed to announce himself, Hux let him in wordlessly. Before the door slid fully shut behind him, the general had him pinned against the wall, a fist in his hair and lips at his neck. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” he murmured. Meridan’s knees went weak, but thankfully Hux was holding him up with the pressure of his lean body. The man started biting into his neck again, remaking the marks that by now had mostly faded. All Meridan could do was grip Hux by the belt and hope he wouldn’t stop anytime soon.

         But Hux pulled back—and for a brief moment, Meridan was wild with disappointment. He wasn’t thinking clearly: all he knew was he was no longer being touched. But then he sighed in relief as the general’s hands found their way to his buckle, then the fasteners of his tunic, ever so carefully removing his uniform. Soon Meridan stood naked in front of his commanding officer. Hux was still fully clothed, missing only his cap and greatcoat. “Your body is my reward for some very dull paperwork and a meeting that made me want to claw my eyes out of my skull. So reward me.”

         “What would you like me to do, sir?”

         Hux gestured to the bedroom. “I want you to lie prone on my bed so I can get my fingers inside you. I want to see if I can make you climax just by playing with your arse.” He led the way, pulling the ensign behind him with a fast grip around one wrist. They clambered onto the bed together. As Meridan stretched out, Hux reached into a bedside drawer for a bottle of lubricant. Holding it in one hand, he moved to sit astride Meridan’s legs. His eyes raked hungrily across the body on his bed. Muscular legs, strong shoulders, perky ass. And his back—

         Hux did a double take. Meridan’s back was striped with old scars. He’d been whipped, repeatedly, over the course of years. The width of the marks suggested a belt. “Meridan,” Hux said, his voice low but still carefully controlled. It sounded like the beginning of a question, or a long conversation.

         The young officer could tell something was wrong from the way the general said his name, and he instantly knew what it was. There was no hiding from this; sooner or later the man would have found out anyway. He craned his neck to look back, and saw that Hux was hesitantly reaching his slender fingers out, about to trace one of the longer marks. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” Meridan promised, mostly to convince himself. “Please, just ignore it.”

         But Hux was visibly upset. “Who—? Why—?” he asked, although he already had a very good idea.

         “Who do you think? Baromis Noro.” Meridan more or less spat his father’s name into the pillow.

         Hux placed his fingers against his temples and fell back onto the bed angrily. Erection forgotten and fading, he stretched out alongside the ensign. “That bastard,” he declared, twisting a curl of Meridan’s hair around a fingertip. It would take the better part of an hour to catalogue all the raised keloids, much longer to include the flat white ones.

         “And as for why, well. He started after he caught me with Garrit.”

         “A boyfriend?”

         “Yes, my first.” First kiss, first love… He could go on. So many damn firsts.

         “What did he walk in on?”

         Meridan’s voice rose without him intending it to. “We were just kissing! I wouldn’t have done anything else in the house!” Even eight years later, he still sounded defensive. “I wouldn’t have dared initiate there, but… I thought we were safe.” Meridan sucked in a deep breath, recalling how guilty his boyfriend had felt afterwards for starting that dangerous kiss. “He had Garrit watch from the corner while he took care of me. That’s what he called it: _taking care_. He said it ought to… to fix us.”

         The general sucked in air and struggled to control his breaths. “Obviously his intervention worked wonders, since tonight you’re here with me. Lying naked on my bed.” He was remembering his own experience with an intervention, although having his palms slapped with a ruler didn’t hold a candle to what Ensign Noro had been through. Besides, that had only happened the once.

         Meridan chuckled. “Obviously.” He thought for a moment. “If it bothers you, I can lie on my back.” He was trying to find a way to salvage the evening, feeling guilty about derailing their enjoyment of each other. Parsecs and years away, Baromis Noro was still managing to get in the way of Meridan’s sex life.

         “It bothers me all right, but not aesthetically. You’re still beautiful.” Hux began to trace a few of the larger scars. “You look like a warrior.”

         Meridan snorted at that. “Hardly. All I did was hug my knees and cry. I just proved I was in fact the pathetic little bitch he said I was.”

         “How old were you? When it started?”

         “Fourteen.”

         “Fuck. How often?”

         “I’m not sure. Ten times with the belt, maybe. But that was only for special occasions. Thankfully he usually just hit me with his fists.” He laughed bitterly, knowing that wasn’t the sort of thing people were supposed to feel thankful for. “You know how a lot of kids say they’re terrified of their fathers coming home drunk? I used to _pray_ mine would. Because he only beat me sober. When he was drunk he’d just lock himself in the study and pretend he didn’t have a son.”

         “How long would he—” Hux paused, taking a moment to quiet his own anger. “Beat you for?”

         “Until he wore himself out. He had me count the lashes, though. The first time it came to one fifty. It ranged from one hundred to two fifty, maybe more. I usually passed out around that point, and I think he’d keep going. The last belting came two days before I left for the Academy. I managed to stay conscious that time. The count came to two hundred. He wanted me to remember the lesson while I was gone. But the lesson I learned was to never go home again.”

         Hux reached his hand out and placed it over one of Meridan’s. He didn’t say anything else; he knew words wouldn’t help. What would he say, anyway? _“I know why you’re angry”_ or _“I had a shit time growing up, too”?_ Slowly, he straddled Meridan’s back at the waist and began rubbing his shoulders. He wasn’t thinking about sex anymore; he was simply offering comfort, something he’d never been given. After each insult or failed heterosexual encounter, he’d just find someone to fight or fuck—or best case scenario, both. He remembered the night of his eighteenth birthday and in retrospect it appeared quite telling. A cycle of shame, violence, and sex. Looking back on it now, he figured a shoulder rub might have been helpful. It certainly couldn’t have hurt.

         Meridan melted under his touch as the cool hands moved across his back. “Hux…” he gasped. “Please…”

         “Yes?” Hux hadn’t been considering that the young man would find this anything other than relaxing, but Meridan rolled onto his side and Hux realized how hard he was. Without a word, he turned Meridan over onto his back and placed his lips around him.

         He hadn’t done this yet, and the ensign cried out in relief and delight. “Sir…” he breathed, unable to find any other words. Eventually he managed, “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:  
> -More conversations about past abuse.  
> -Reference to un-negotiated BDSM.  
> In other news, I received and accepted a post-graduation job offer. So I won't be impoverished forever. Hooray!


	9. Rushing Things

Two days later, Meridan had been invited to the general’s quarters again. He had big plans and high hopes for the evening: he intended to convince the general to fuck him properly. But he remembered Hux’s very clear directive and felt an anxious quiver build in his gut as he stood in front of the door. Meridan never really begged for anything of the sort, and wasn’t quite sure how to go about it. In the end, he decided on a forthright approach to the matter.

          Pinned to some very expensive sheets by the shirtless general who was busy sucking a series of fresh bruises at his throat, Meridan simply breathed, “Hux,” The name itself already sounded like a plea, but he continued. “Sir… Please…”

          “Please what, Ensign?” As if he had no idea what Meridan wanted from him. But Hux appreciated clarity and straightforwardness, and even more than that, he enjoyed prolonging moments like this. Moments spent balancing on the edge of getting what he wanted.

          “I want you inside me. And not just your fingers, either.”

          Hux sat back and studied him coolly, his blue-green eyes impossible to read. “Remember the rules, Noro. Not until you beg to my satisfaction.”

          Reflecting on his directions, Meridan slid off the bed to sink to the floor. Hux moved to the edge of the mattress and the ensign crouched between his knees, hands folded in his lap and eyes lowered humbly. “I’m desperate, sir. I want you to enjoy me. I need you so much I’m aching for it. If you want me at all, please take me.” Only then did he look up hopefully.

          Hux stared deliberately at his supplicant for a long moment before nodding his acceptance. “Very good. Now get off the floor and lie back down on the bed.” As Meridan complied, Hux went over to the nightstand for a bottle of lube and to remove his trousers. Then he approached the mattress. “How many fingers should I start with, I wonder?” he asked, casually passing the bottle back and forth between his hands.

          Meridan whimpered quietly at the thought of Hux beginning with more than one.

          "Oh, you don’t think you can handle it?” A smirk played across the redhead’s lips.

          The young man bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from saying something stupid, something that would make him sound either inexperienced or promiscuous. Instead he took his time looking at the general; this was the first time he’d seen him entirely naked. The man was built like a swimmer, trim and fit without being blatantly muscular. The low light was flattering to his pale, rather freckled and smooth skin. Hux was immaculately groomed but Meridan was inordinately pleased with the thin red happy trail running downwards from the navel.

           "You want me to pretend that you haven’t had seven different cocks up you? You’d like me to treat you like an awkward boy who has no idea what he’s doing? A nervous, unsullied _virgin_?” Hux said the last word like it was an insult, then straddled Meridan’s chest and leaned down to whisper in his ear. His bare cock dragged delightfully against the ensign’s stomach. “Everything I give you, you will take. And you will enjoy it.”

          Meridan tilted his hips into Hux’s, eager for more contact and friction, but felt a grip immediately fasten around his throat.

          “Did I give you permission to take pleasure from me? Did you even _ask_?”

          The ensign shook his head, admitting his guilt. “No, sir.”

          “Then try to refrain from rutting against me like a teenager. You are no use to me if you can’t control yourself or your urges.”

          “I’m sorry, sir,” the younger man whispered.

          “‘Sorry’ is a good start.” With that, Hux guided Meridan onto his stomach and ran a cool hand over his arse before gently resting it in the cleft. The ensign heard the crack of a bottle cap, then felt a wet fingertip circle him. He tried to relax in anticipation of the breach, but found it difficult. And there Hux was, slipping his index finger in the entire way in one smooth, confident motion. He began thrusting his hand and twisting his wrist, efficiently working the space open. This was just preparation; the general was focused on a further goal. But it was the first time Hux had been inside him at all, and Meridan was reveling in it. The middle finger entered and soon the two digits were spreading apart for a third.

          Meridan panted, “That’s enough, Hux. I’m ready.”

          The general assessed the man’s level of preparation. “I suspect you’re rushing things.”

          “I don’t care. I want it to hurt, at least a little. I’ve wanted this for months. Please just don’t make me wait any longer for you.” Meridan had never wanted sex to hurt before; until now, pain had been something to avoid or put up with. But for some reason it was different with Hux. He wanted to feel everything, the whole range of possible sensations this man could cause him.

          Something gave way in the general then, an already-weak barrier overwhelmed and flooded over. If this was what the man said he wanted, Hux wasn’t going to hold back unnecessarily. “Remember later that you asked for this,” he murmured as he removed his fingers, grabbed Meridan’s hips, and drove his cock inside, all at once. Meridan cried out, just like Hux had hoped, half in pain and half in joy. It was a perfect, pure sound. He leaned over the ensign's back and spoke quietly, directly into his ear. “Shall I fuck you now? As hard and deep as I please?”

          The answer came back like a growl. “Yes.”

          “And will you enjoy it?”

          “I will _love_ it.”

          “Good. Move with me.” Hux pulled Meridan back by the hips and closed his eyes to relish the moment. Sex and battle were the two areas of life wherein he allowed himself a decent measure of release. And giving up any significant amount of self-control was always an adjustment for him. It was one of the reasons he had Meridan on his hands and knees—he wasn’t ready for the ensign to see the relief on his face while he thrust into him. The precision of his movements belied a depth of abandonment _. As far as he knows, I’m still perfectly composed._ It wouldn’t last, of course, eventually Meridan would see Hux wild with pleasure. But not yet. Not tonight.

          Hux pressed a palm down on the ensign’s upper back, pushing him into one of those perfect positions—shoulders flush against the mattress and his arse raised. If he angled downwards, Hux could glide against his prostate with every move. The position also had the added benefit of being somewhat degrading, although Meridan was grinding back against him enthusiastically with each thrust. Hux rewarded this by slipping his hand down to start stroking Meridan slowly but intensely. The ensign groaned in relief and Hux knew they’d both climax soon. It didn’t matter; they deserved this. Two months of circling in on each other, silently assessing interest, and finally consummating. Hux started talking. “Sweet boy. You’re so very well behaved. I will _always_ reward you for being good.”

          “Thank you, Hux, sir…” Meridan moaned, unable to say anything more coherent. “Hux.”

          “You may come, boy.”

          Those permissive words alone sent Meridan over the edge, spurting through the general’s fingers and onto the sheets below them. Hux felt the ensign tighten around him in waves, and then he was riding out his own orgasm, fingertips digging into hipbones, burying his come with a prolonged shout. He didn’t care if the sound carried to the deck’s neighboring quarters; there was nothing to be ashamed of. And he was too important for there to be serious consequences. Just a few frowns and mutters of “fraternization” and he’d be quieter in the future—for a while at least.

          Hux pulled out slowly as he softened, not wanting to give up the contact quite yet. He stared at the pretty arse he’d just been inside before tousling Meridan’s sweaty hair rather affectionately. “Gods. If I’d known what a good lay you were, I wouldn’t have made you beg like that.” Falling back against the mattress besides the ensign, he silently kicked himself for first hesitating, then for dragging this out longer than absolutely necessary. Although he’d relished the anticipation preceding this evening, the sex was better. The general calculated that he could have been fucking Ensign Noro for the past three weeks.

          “I’m more than happy to beg for you, Hux.” They lay together quietly. Eventually Meridan swung his legs over the edge of the mattress. “I should clean up and get going.”

          Unthinkingly, Hux said one word. “Stay."

          Meridan froze, then turned his head. “Really?”

          Hux swallowed, forcing back the all too familiar reflex to push the other man away and out of his quarters. There must have been a reason the word had fallen out of his mouth, and he didn’t want to start contradicting himself. _Officers and gentlemen don’t go back on their word, even if they’re not certain why they said it._ “Yes, really. Go on and clean up, but stay the night. If you’d like.” But neither did he want to explain it, so he felt relief wash over him when Meridan simply nodded and went to the fresher. After he returned to the pillow beside Hux, he fell asleep quickly. Hux laid on his side for a while, watching the ensign breathe softly, looking for all the galaxy like he belonged in the general’s bed. They didn’t touch; they were close enough.

* * *

 

How long could this possibly last? Hux’s attention deserted the report on recent seizures of cargo of unlicensed spice. It appeared that proceeds were being funneled to finance Resistance arms deals. Which was very interesting information that he was finding impossible to focus on at the moment.

          He let the tablet drop softly onto his lap. Sooner or later, Meridan would discover what he was like. The man had already seen glimpses—an order here, a light choke there. How long until he realized the depth of Hux’s paraphilias? How many more encounters before Hux felt the need to open his lower desk drawer and bare his collection? To ask permission to start in on his long list of hobbies?

          The general hadn’t worried about this in years. Usually he simply laid everything out on the table beforehand. _This is what I want. Take it or leave it._ It had been well over a decade since he’d sought a relationship beyond safewords and boundary negotiations. To be sure, he’d become fond of several partners in the intervening years, but that had only developed over the course of mutually satisfying play—he hadn’t started out looking for anything deeper than indulging in his multiple kinks.

          He suspected it was mostly Meridan’s past that had him concerned. Surely that was the reason he found himself inclined to be gentler with him. There couldn’t be anything more to it than that. He simply didn’t want to spoil what they’d begun.

          Then again… Meridan _had_ demanded to be fucked before he was fully ready, at least physically speaking. He gave head like a whore. And he responded well to a hand tightening around his throat. All these were promising signs, but their compatibility might end there.

           _He might just be desperate for approval and overeager to please_   _those in_   _authority_. _Even worse, he might need to be loved._

          Hux had decided long ago that he was no longer capable of that sort of thing. It was at once too ordinary and too dangerous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's short, but the next bit is rather disorganized and requires some untangling before posting.  
> If you have any comments/criticisms/suggestions, please post them! Thanks.


	10. Negotiations

Hux refilled Meridan’s wine during the second course, then topped off his own glass. They were having a quiet dinner in the general's quarters, the sort of thing that more ordinary people would probably call a date.

         “As you may have already gathered, my sexual tastes run to the… less than typical.” He wasn’t going to say words like _twisted_ or _deviant_ because he’d heard them enough times from others to last him the rest if his life. He’d finished with shame long ago—or at least that’s what he told himself on good days. On bad days he still felt like a lonely pervert, a boy terrified of the galaxy discovering that he liked other boys, and the things he liked doing to them.

         At this plain admission, Meridan began to blush. “I’m not complaining.”

        “No. But I have yet to pull out all the stops with you.”

        The ensign choked on his current bite of noodles. He made an executive decision to do one thing at a time and leave off eating while they were on this subject. “What… _else_ … would you like to do?”

         The corner of Hux’s mouth twitched enigmatically. “Plenty. But before we talk specifics, I’d like to go over some ground rules.”

         Meridan frowned and fiddled with his cutlery. “Can’t we just… play it by ear?”

         “No, we cannot.” Hux set down his fork at this declaration. “Well, in theory we _could_ , but I won’t.” He thought but didn’t add, _Especially with you._ He didn’t want a pleasant evening to devolve into Meridan reliving past abuse at his own hands; it would be decisively unsexy. “I’ve learned better. So, as I said, ground rules. First and foremost, we don’t need to go any farther than we already have. As much as I relish the thought of exploring my interests with you, I’d be perfectly satisfied with things as they stand.” _Perhaps not,_ he admitted to himself, but figured he was willing to try to make that work if it was what the other man wanted.

         “No, I’d like to… explore, as well. I like…” Mer looked down; he was going to have to tell this to his plate if he were going to say it at all. “I like it when you tell me what to do. When you bite me. And squeeze my neck until I can hardly breathe.” He forced himself to look up and meet Hux’s eyes. “I want to try more.” Whatever that meant.

         “I thought as much. Well, if we go any further down that route, we’ll need to have a safeword.”

         “Why?” Meridan blinked, comprehending the term but not its necessity. “Can’t I trust you?”

         “Safewords are all about trust, Meridan. I need to trust you to know your own limits and speak up when I come too close to them, because at some point I probably will.” He admitted this much; by now he’d learned that he had a tendency to push boundaries, both intentionally and inadvertently. Usually it went well, but other times… Well, he’d reduced a handful of grown men to broken tears and given one a panic attack. “And you need to trust me to respect your use of the safeword, if it comes to that.”

         “Alright. I’ll have to think of one, then.” The words and phrases that came immediately to mind—stop, too much, please no—he recognized as unsuitable for this purpose. Meridan might not know much about the topic, but he understood that a safeword ought to be something clearly out of place. He tried to imagine what it would be like to tell Hux to stop, but not mean it, and have the plea go unheeded. It made his collar feel suddenly tight and itchy.

         “Glad you’re on board. Next item. What are your hard limits?”

         The ensign raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

         Hux answered his unspoken question. “Things you absolutely will not do.”

         “Just… Please don’t belt or punch me.” Without a comprehensive list of options from Hux, these were all he could think of.

         At this request, Hux silently pushed his chair back, stood up, and walked to the other end of the table. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Meridan.” He leaned down to lightly kiss the ensign’s forehead. “Anything else, I meant.”

         Meridan shook his head. “Nothing that comes to mind.” _Just don’t fall in love with me. I can’t do that again._ But he didn’t imagine the general was in danger of doing anything of the sort.   

         “Promise that you’ll tell me if we need to add anything to that list.” After Meridan nodded, Hux said, “Finish up your dinner and I’ll show you something. As an illustration of my interests.”

         Ensign Noro scarfed down a few more forkfuls before decisively pushing his plate toward the center of the table. “Huh,” he reflected in mock-surprise. “Would you look at that: I seem to be done.”

         Taking Meridan by the hand, Hux lead him to the desk in the bedroom. “Open the bottom drawer, if you’d be so kind.” The general had thought this through before Meridan's arrival and taken the time to remove the more intimidating items. He was never planning on using a crop, whip, cane, or flogger on this man, and it went without saying that he’d stay the hell away from belts. That meant there was no reason for Meridan to know that Hux owned any of those items or had greatly enjoyed employing them in the past. A part of him was hurt by Meridan’s single spoken request. _What kind of monster does he suspect I am, that he thought I might want to beat him knowing what I do?_ The rest of him was glad that the ensign had at least worked up the courage to state his limits aloud. Now he smiled while Meridan perused his collection of restraints and assorted other toys—blindfolds, collars and leashes, gags, rope, beads, plugs...

         The ensign turned around, holding Hux’s military police issue handcuffs in the air. “So you _do_ have a pair of these.” His eyes were wide and his lips stayed slightly parted after he finished speaking.

         “You were wondering about that.” Hux swallowed back his excitement at the realization that Noro had already been thinking along these lines. He’d piqued some curiosity already.

         Meridan nodded slightly. “Where’s the key?”

         “That would be telling.” The redhead smiled enigmatically; the key was already in his pocket. In case Meridan hadn’t been able to choose, Hux had figured handcuffs as a good starting point. They provided a sense of restraint without being overly restrictive. Just a taste of where things could end up.

         “Alright. It seems you’d like to tie me up. And down. What would you do to me then?”

         “Anything I pleased.” Hux knelt on the floor beside Meridan and put a gentle hand in his hair. There was something about the young man’s dark curls that made his fingers ache to run through them, twirling and tugging. Pulling and caressing. “I could kiss you for an eternity.” He placed his lips on the ensign’s neck and sucked at it lightly, listening to the barely perceptible sighs he caused. “I could tickle you until you cried. Finger you until you begged uselessly for me to take you. Or…” His lips hovered by Meridan’s ear, “I could simply ignore you.” He envisioned roping the man to his bedposts, working him open, sliding a plug deep inside him... and proceeding to read reconnaissance reports for an hour before touching him again. Having the power to make someone wait excitedly for him to do whatever he wanted made Hux feel more than a little drunk. It was better than alcohol.

         Mer shuddered at these options. He wanted to grab Hux by the hips and pull the general on top of him, but he kept his hands in his lap. “Yes. I want that. I want to grant you control. You can decide what to do with it.”

         Hux took the handcuffs, then stood up and waved them slowly in front of Meridan’s face. “Good boy. Now tell me your word and we can get started.”

         “ _Jawas_.”

         The general’s brow wrinkled and he couldn’t help but laugh. “ _That_ would definitely ruin the mood all by itself. But if you say it, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing and release you from any restraints immediately. I’ll also periodically check in on you, especially if I’m concerned about how you’re holding up.”

         “You’re making this sound like a hazardous undertaking.”

         “I’m trying to ensure that it’s as mutually satisfying as possible. Now, are you ready to learn how I like to be serviced?”

         Meridan nodded. Hux stood first before helping the other man onto his own feet. The general’s back straightened as he donned his gloves, his entire body language becoming entirely serious as he looked the ensign up and down appraisingly. The young officer was reminded of muster on his first day aboard, but then the general broke the comparison by ordering, “Get out of your clothes as quickly as you can and fold them on the desk chair. And _tidily_.” He watched the man’s struggle between haste and composure, making sure his own face didn’t betray a hint of the amusement he felt.

         Once Meridan was standing nude in front of him at parade rest, Hux withdrew a tiny key from an inner coat pocket. Using it to open the handcuffs, he pulled Meridan’s arms behind his back and fastened them at the wrists. Then he took a fistful of the ensign’s hair and gazed into his dark eyes. “You will ask my permission before you come. If you please me sufficiently, I will grant it. Eventually. Understood?”

         “Yes.” Meridan’s mouth had gone dry.

         Hux’s grip on his hair tightened as he pulled his head to the side. “Yes, what?” he asked coolly, breath gusting against Meridan’s bare neck.

         “Yes, _sir_.”

         “Good. Now, get down on your knees, pretty boy.” His hand dropped to the flies of his trousers. “Open that filthy mouth of yours and amuse me with it.”

         “Yes, sir.”

         Hux let him suck for a little while, chasing his cock eagerly when it slipped out from between his lips. It was apparent that Meridan wasn’t used to giving head without the use of his hands. Once fully hard, Hux held him out at arms’ length by the shoulders. “This will be a little different, now,” he explained quietly. “I’m going to take over. Do you trust me to gauge when you need to breathe?”

         “I do, sir.”

         After Hux put a hand on the back of his head and started guiding him, Meridan wasn’t able to say anything else. The only noises he could make were hums and the quiet smacking of his lips. Without the use of his arms or hands to steady himself, he was entirely at Hux’s mercy—or lack thereof—as the general held him down. Just when he thought he wouldn’t be able to take any more without fainting from want of air, Hux pulled his head back. A glistening string of saliva connected his bottom lip to the tip of the general’s member as he gasped desperately, shoulders heaving.

         Meridan had never produced this much drool in his life, and it caused a self-conscious pang to run through him. Hux noticed the ensign’s blush, and commented on it. “Don’t concern yourself with the mess. The housekeeping droids certainly don’t mind.” He purposefully didn’t mention how much he appreciated the way Noro looked like a debauched whore at the moment, like a beautiful young man willing to do anything to please a cock. The redhead was grateful it happened to be his. “Ready for more?” The ensign nodded, and licked his lips hungrily. “Well, then. Let me get all the way inside your throat and give it a good hard fuck. See if I can’t make you gag on me.”

         Mer had deep-throated dicks before—including Hux’s—so he figured he wasn’t in much danger of choking. But all those times the activity had been on his own terms, and soon he was in fact making gagging noises as Hux thrust into him at a pace he wasn’t prepared for. He coughed involuntarily, expelling saliva onto the floor and immediately feeling sorry for it. So he looked up into Hux’s eyes to apologize, his wet lips once again flush with the red stubble of the general’s pelvis.

         “Don’t fret, Mer. That felt incredible. Extra lubrication. Just… keep taking it like a good boy.” The redhead tilted his own head back and let out a guttural moan as he started rocking his hips in time with the motion of his hands on the man’s head. “Gods… your mouth… is so hot… so wet… You’re _such_ a good boy.”

         Meridan was painfully hard now that Hux was vocalizing his enjoyment and praising him. Right now was precisely when he’d want to start touching himself, but of course he couldn’t. Everything was up to Hux; the only thing Meridan could possibly do was stop it—but the thought didn’t cross his mind. Soon the general pulled him off and held him out at arm’s length as he took several deep breaths to compose himself somewhat. He tilted Meridan’s chin upwards with one hand and looked into his eyes. “Well, Ensign Noro. This is what I can be like. So tell me, what is your status?”

         Meridan was also attempting to catch his breath. “I’m fine, sir. Happy to be of service.” His voice was hoarse; would his throat be sore tomorrow?

         “Perfect.” Hux removed a handkerchief from a pocket and used it to wipe off Meridan’s face before dabbing at his sopping wet cock and balls. “Now get up on the bed and kneel there.” Hux kept his gloves on even while he poured lubricant into one cupped palm. Meridan glanced back, curious. “No secrets back here, Ensign. I’m going to fuck you. Just as soon as I…” he trailed off and slipped an oiled, leather-clad fingertip inside. Meridan moaned. “You like that? It’s thicker and rougher this way, I imagine.”

         “Yes, I like it, sir,” Mer panted while Hux shoved the entire finger inside. “Oh _fuck_ , do I like it.”

         “You also like that I’m still in uniform,” the general observed as he began working the man open, holding him in place with his other hand on the linking chain of the handcuffs. “You’ll see me like this on the bridge tomorrow and remember what I’m doing right now. You’ll probably get hard. And I’ll pretend that there’s nothing between us. That I just used you…” Another finger. “And then discarded you. That I came in you like a condom and threw you away with as much consideration.” He watched Meridan push back onto his hand, eager for more. “Hm. Do you think you’re about ready for me?”

         “Yes, sir. I’m ready to be used.”

         Hux slid his fingers out and lined up his dick. “Don’t worry,” he murmured as he eased in, centimeter by painstaking centimeter. “I’ll remember. How good you were. How hot and close you felt around me. The way I took you and took you. How much I’m looking forward to doing it all over again.” His thrusts were precise but deep, each pulling a sweet little noise out of Meridan. _Oh. Oh. Mm. Yes._ “Would you like me to make this last tonight?”

         Meridan nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, General. Please.”

         “I’m glad. Because I’m in the mood for edging.” He cleared his throat apologetically. “I’m sorry, maybe you’re not familiar with the terminology. Do you know what edging is?”

         “No, sir. But I think I’d like to find out.”

         “It’s when one comes very close to climax, and stays there, teetering on the edge, for as long as it’s possible to stand it.” The ensign made an appreciative noise. “Yes, it’s exquisite. Almost torture, almost bliss. And I’d like you to be right there with me.”

         “Maker, yes. If… if I deserve it.”

         Hux couldn’t help but notice how small Meridan’s voice had become. He was concerned about his performance, his value. “Oh, you deserve it, all right.” Generally speaking, he didn’t take moments like these to heap compliments on his partner. Hux was accustomed to calling men in restraints _pathetic whores_ , and only praising them when they brought him off. But he knew instinctively that Meridan required a different touch. Apparently he needed to be told in explicit detail that he was worth having. Hux wondered precisely how much damage Baromis Noro had done to him, or if there were more to it than the abuse. Had things with Garrit ended poorly? “You’ve such a lovely mouth. You know how to move with me. And your sweet arse… fuck, Mer, I could spend hours inside you. Which I intend to do, over and over again.” He gripped Meridan’s hip with one hand and used the other to pull him by the cuffs, rocking his ass back and forth onto him. “So beautiful. Thank you for this.” He reached over to begin stroking Meridan off. “I want you good and hard for me. As hard as you make me. Can you feel it? What your mouth and arse have done to me?”

         “You know I can. Ah, _fuck_!” The combination of the hand around him, the balls slapping his perineum, and the swollen cockhead pressing against his prostate was making him giddy.

         “Getting close, Ensign?”

         “Yes, sir.”

         “Don’t come yet.” Meridan gave a tiny whine and Hux couldn’t help but slap his ass sharply. “Stop complaining. You can take it.” He glanced at the bedside chrono. “For fifteen minutes more.” To be honest, he wanted to go longer—at least half an hour—but this was new for his partner and he didn’t want to take it too far their first go-around. There would be plenty of time to train the young man. Hux had so many lessons planned.

         Meridan wailed in protest. “Sir… I’ll go mad.”

         “That’s the plan. Think about where you want my load, once I finally let go. In the meantime, listen to me fucking you.” Hux slowed his pace to postpone the inevitable. Fifteen more minutes would be trying for him as well, considering the desperate sounds Meridan was making with each snap of his hips. So he stilled entirely and brought a hand to the young officer’s head. His hair only got curlier as he started to sweat. Hux pulled Meridan upright and held him in one arm as he appreciated the heat radiating from him. “Such a good boy,” the general purred into his ear. “I’m going to have so much fun with you. Tying you up. Holding you down. Teasing you mercilessly. Making you come so hard for me…”

         The ensign melted against him and the talk of impending orgasms. “Please, sir… How much longer?”

         Hux turned his head to check. Usually he was very good at sensing the passage of time, but that skill faded during sex as other details took precedence. “Seven minutes. Have you decided where you want it?” He kissed Meridan’s neck softly.

         “Everywhere.”

         “Not really feasible,” Hux admitted apologetically.

         Meridan turned to the side to swipe Hux’s lips with his own for a brief moment. “On my face? If you please, that is, sir.”

         “You dirty thing. Alright. Not much longer now.” He pushed Meridan’s chest down onto the mattress, one hand gripping the cuffs and the other keeping his hips precisely where he wanted them. He went hard and fast for the last few moments, driving himself right up to the brink while the ensign under him moaned with absolutely no restraint. Finally, he pulled out and turned the man around to face him.

         Holding Meridan’s chin up with a single finger, Hux instructed him, “Lick my hand first. Then keep your mouth open.” He wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to aim, but he knew he wanted the ensign to get a good taste. “Fuck, I can't get over how damn pretty you are,” he panted as he worked a wet fist up and down himself furiously, no longer holding back. “Are you ready for it, pretty boy?”

         “Yes, sir,” Meridan nodded enthusiastically. “Give me everything you’ve got.”

         That encouraging plea and the hungry look in his dark eyes had the redhead moaning blissfully as he emptied himself. Hux watched his release decorate the man kneeling between his legs, spurting onto his chin, cheeks, lips—and yes, some into his welcoming mouth. He ran the head around Meridan’s lips to clean off what remained on it, and to eke out a final moment of oral stimulation. Once he was no longer dizzy, he pushed Meridan back down onto the pillows and kissed him roughly. His lips and tongue drifted across the ensign’s face as he began to lick up the mess he’d made there. When he was satisfied with his tidying, he removed the key from around his neck and released Meridan from the handcuffs. Massaging the man’s freed wrists, he pinned him back against the mattress and growled into his ear, “Now I want to taste yours.”

         When Hux did more than promised and took Meridan’s dick all the way down, the ensign entirely lost his capacity for words. He just stared helplessly down at the blur of red hair bobbing up and down between his legs and groaned. Eventually he was able to put together a few coherent sounds. “May I, sir? Please?”

         Hux simply caught his eyes and nodded.

 

Hux brushed his lips softly against Meridan’s. “Thank you very much. How do you feel?”

         “Drained. Sore.” He paused before adding, truthfully, “Happy.” Coming in Hux’s mouth had felt like such a reward, and the general seemed to have enjoyed it as well. Was that from the power of bestowing pleasure, the act itself, or a combination thereof?

         “Was there anything you didn’t particularly like?”

         Meridan bit his lip in thought. “Well, I would have liked to have seen your face more. It felt a little anonymous.” He quickly added, “Not that it was a bad thing.” Meridan wanted to make it clear that he’d enjoyed the evening. Anonymous-feeling sex with Hux was still a far cry from actual anonymity, because he could turn his head and remind himself exactly who was taking him.

         The redhead nodded. “Next time I’ll have you facing me. Perhaps on your back with your legs over my shoulders. Because I do so enjoy the look in your eyes when I bring you off.”

         “Although I did like the way you used the cuffs to move me around.” He’d been surprised by how much he’d appreciated being shifted like a piece of furniture. If people used furniture for sexual gratification, that was.

         “Oh yes? We can certainly do more of that sort of thing. To be perfectly honest, I’d like to rope your limbs to the bedposts and see how long I can pound you into the mattress. Arse-fuck you into oblivion. Make you forget everything you know.”

         “Maker, Hux,” the ensign breathed, wondering exactly how many minutes Hux _could_ last. At least thirty, probably much longer. What would it feel like after an hour? Would there be any pleasure left for himself, or would he just be resigned to making Hux feel good? He wanted to ask, but even more, he wanted to find out first-hand.

         “Is that a good ‘Maker’ or a bad one?”

         “It’s a my-brain-wants-to-give-me-another-boner-but-my-cock-simply-can’t Maker.”

         The general grinned at that response. “We’re going to have so much fun together. Now get some sleep. I’m sure you’re exhausted from being such a good boy.” Hux was certainly worn out from being a sadistic bastard, although he knew he wouldn’t sleep for some time yet. He reached for his datapad as the young man settled into bed beside him.

         “Set your alarm a bit early tomorrow,” Meridan suggested, giving him a quick peck on a pale shoulder.

         “Oh, so you think you’re up for something in the morning?” Hux asked, wrapping an arm around Meridan’s waist. “With what sort of filthy activity would you like to start your day?”

         The ensign nodded. “Surprise me.”

         Meridan fell asleep against Hux, and the general pretended to read engineering articles as he spent the next hour planning how exactly to wake him up.

* * *

Hux woke well before the alarm sounded, so he shut it off. After washing up but before donning his uniform, he headed to his desk before returning to the bedroom.

         “Wake up, pet,” he murmured with a warm kiss to Meridan’s cheekbone.

         “Hmm?” Mer asked groggily.

         “Sit up. I have something for you.”

         The ensign roused himself into a sitting position, scrunched a pillow behind his back, and rubbed his bleary eyes. “Wha—”

         “This.” Hux handed him a small box. “I suppose it’s a bit early in the day for this sort of thing, but I’d like you to try it on, if you’re amenable.”

         Meridan flipped the lid open and blinked down at a small leather collar. “How does it fasten? Is there a lock to keep it in place?” He watched Hux nod and he held the collar up to the light. “And what is the ring for?”

         “For this.” The general held a thin leash between his outstretched hands and gave it a quick demonstrative snap.

         “Oh hells.”

         Hux watched Meridan flush and thought it was just as adorable as it was arousing. “Well?”

         “Yes. Of course yes.”

         “In that case, turn around so I can put this on you.”

         “The leash too?”

         The redhead grinned at that. “How else will I parade you around?”

         After snapping the collar into place with a miniature padlock, Hux spoke while affixing the lead. “Of course the safeword rules still apply. However, while you’re collared, you’re nameless. I will call you Pet or Boy. When you have served me well and I remove it, I’ll give you your name back. Understood?”

         “Yes, sir.”

         “On the floor with you, then.” Hux started by walking Meridan around the perimeter of the bed, watching the muscles in his lower back and buttocks as he crawled ahead of him. Then he sat down on the edge of the mattress and rested his bare feet on Meridan’s shoulders. “We don’t have too much time. So get up here and show me your arse.” Meridan scrambled up beside Hux but wasn’t sure how to present himself. “On your hands and knees, boy.” He spat into his palm, wet his fingertips, and hooked two inside Meridan’s hole. The man immediately groaned, and Hux recognized the sound as not entirely one of enjoyment. “Are you sore from last night?”

         “Yes, sir.” The conflicting discomfort and pleasure had him vividly remembering how hard Hux had gone at him those last few minutes, and his dick twitched at the recollection.

         “I won’t edge, then.” He reached for the lubricant and properly oiled his hand. “Fuck, I want to make you so filthy.” Hux tugged on the lead to encourage Meridan into a seated position. Then the general laid down on the bed. “Get me ready with your mouth. Face my feet so I can prep you.” Without waiting for his new pet to move, he pulled the man down onto him. “ _Now._ ”

         Meridan’s lips were on Hux in an instant. The redhead tilted his hips up to fill the ensign’s mouth as his fingertips pried his ass open. Considering that Hux had woken up half-hard, he was ready to go in under a minute. He grabbed Meridan by the hair and yanked his head up. Looking into his brown eyes, Hux ordered, “Ride me.”

         The ensign—no, the _pet—_ straddled Hux and briefly reflected on the fact that he was going to be on top despite the other man being entirely in control. Moments later he was sliding down onto the pulsating wet dick below him, feeling the stretch of his raw sphincter and fighting the urge to back up and off. “Nnn,” he groaned through gritted teeth at the aching intrusion. “Fuck.”

         “Yes, that’s right, Pet. Fuck yourself with my cock.” As Meridan began to gently rock against Hux’s pelvis, a sharp tug on his collar grabbed his attention. “We don’t have all morning, so you’ll have to ride it like you mean it.”

         As the moments passed and his clenched muscles began to relax again, Meridan started bouncing against Hux in earnest, clutching his shoulders with both hands. Each time he rose so that only the very tip remained inside before plunging down to slam against the general’s groin.

         “That’s a good boy. Work my dick like it’s all you’re good for. Up and down. Up and fucking down. Like it’s what gets you up in the morning.” For today at least, this was true.

         Mer watched Hux’s eyes flutter closed and knew he was nearing climax. He felt a tight grip on his ass and then let loose a guttural yell as Hux forced a finger in beside his dick.

         “I love stretching you out, Pet. You’re going to feel me all… fucking… _day_. Now touch that pretty cock of yours. I want to feel your come on me.” He watched Meridan desperately stroke himself. “Yes. No need to ask permission—I’m giving it now. Unload on me whilst I fill you up.” Still gripping the end of the lead, he brought his free hand over to squeeze Mer’s balls. “Give me everything you’ve got in here. I won’t clean up. I’ll wear it on my skin under my uniform during my shift. As evidence of how good I make you feel.”


	11. The List

Midday on the _Finalizer_ , Meridan was called into General Hux’s office to review the previous day’s holo-training that all the new officers had completed together. Well, _completed_ was a kind way of putting it. Over and over, their time had run out on each sim before they could agree on a satisfactory and effective course of action. Tarique and Huula in particular seemed to have developed some bad blood between them in the past few weeks, and this resulted in each of them becoming dead-set against an idea the moment the other voiced it.

        Hux looked up from his screen the moment Ensign Noro entered, and waved him to the seat across from his desk. “I’ve already received a formal report from Ensign Byri, but I’d like to hear your impression of the situation.”

        “It could have gone better, sir,” Meridan allowed, trying to be diplomatic.

        “Now there’s an understatement.” He sighed in exasperation. “I don’t understand you lot. You’re no longer competing for grades or assignments. When are you going to learn to work together?”

        “Well… It’s a bit of a… difficult adjustment, sir.”

        “Apparently so. What am I going to do with you?” the general asked, returning to his datapad to skim over the report still in front of him.

        Meridan knew he was referring to the entire team—and rhetorically at that—but chose to speak as though it were a personal question. “Well, I can think of a few things.” He worked his lower lip between his teeth before adding, almost as an afterthought, “ _Sir_.” He spoke the word differently to convey something more than protocol formality.

        Hux looked up from the screen, startled at the suggestion. When he spoke, his tone was chiding. “We’re on duty, Ensign.”

        “I bet you’ll be able to forgive me for distracting you.” He wasn’t certain how the man would respond, but he had hopes. His heartrate was already speeding up at the thought of pleasing Hux in his office.

        The general raised an eyebrow and continued looking at him for a beat before kicking his chair back from the desk. It was the only movement he needed to make before Meridan was kneeling on the floor between his legs. “This is such a poor decision,” Hux admitted, mostly to himself. But then his flies were open and a warm hand reached inside his trousers. The redhead leaned back. “Fuck… Don’t care.” And if the ensign’s palm and fingers were warm, his mouth felt like it was nearly burning. But Hux’s body temperature ran cool around 36.5 C, so everyone else always seemed feverish. He often wished he could keep himself properly heated, but it gave him an excuse to wear his greatcoat frequently and made physical contact particularly pleasant, even comforting. Stealing warmth was one of the many ways in which he used his partners.

        Like now. The general was still more than a little angry and he was biting back words he was accustomed to speaking without forethought. _Worthless. Trash. Pathetic. Whore._ Things he’d said to dozens of men who’d been down on their knees in front of him. But none of them had a history of abuse that he’d been aware of, and that knowledge alone seemed to change everything.

        _Would I have scarred Birtrem so casually if I’d seen Meridan’s back first?_

        For a moment, his mind wandered back to the laundry room at Arkanis Academy and the candidate he used to meet there: the one he’d called Whore for the greater part of a year before learning his name. The boy who’d sucked cock like it was what got him out of bed in the morning. He wondered where Birtrem was these days and whether everyone he’d been with since he was eighteen had asked about the letters on his back. Especially now that ‘Hux’ meant something across the entire Order—and beyond.

        Hux hadn’t ever restrained himself this much, not since he first began indulging in his kinks. He wanted to call Meridan a filthy cocksucker but didn’t want to damage him any further—and he wasn’t sure what words or actions might push him the wrong way. He knew not to promise to “take care of” him, knew not to belt him. But other than that, he realized he was working more or less blindly. For a split second he wished he had Ren’s ability to peak into Meridan’s mind. Because he didn’t want to ask about it as he had a strong suspicion that doing so would put a quick end to their current activity. And it would start a conversation he was dead certain neither of them wanted to have. The problem was that they still needed to have it.

        _We should have discussed language the night we had dinner together._

He smiled a little bitterly to himself as he contemplated potential phrasing.

_—What exactly was it that your father used to say to you while he was beating you senseless?_

_—So, Ensign. What words should I strike from my vocabulary to prevent you from seeing me as another abuser?_

        He shook his head to clear it, then looked down at the officer below him. Meridan was humming away, blissfully unaware of the general’s misgivings. Hux gasped and knew he was going to start talking soon. He felt a few beads of sweat form on his forehead. _Don’t give him the wrong impression. Don’t let him walk out of here thinking you’re all chocolate boxes and roses._

        Hux wasn’t that at all and surely Meridan had to know it by now. So he grabbed the man’s hair and pulled him in, holding his face against his pelvis for a full count of ten. It was just a reminder of what he could do; a promise and a threat all at once. As he was finally released, Meridan gasped for air while looking up at the general with a delighted smile on his wet lips. Then Hux breathed in deeply, left his hands on the armrests, and started in with his words as the ensign leaned back down. “You look fantastic with a cock deep in your mouth. And I’m happy it’s mine.” Meridan gave a pleased sound in acknowledgment. “You like getting down on your knees for me? Because I think it’s right where you belong.” The junior officer nodded in wholehearted agreement. Hux listened to Meridan’s mouth, reveled in the wet slurping noises he made. “Oh gods, that’s it, pet. Yes. Show me what you’re good for and I’ll reward you. Deeper.” Hux groaned as his cock sunk down his partner’s throat. “All the way down. And hold it, boy. Hold it. Mm, yes. Wherever did you learn to do that?” _No need to train this one at fellatio._ His breath caught in his throat and just before he lost control, he abruptly ordered, “Stop.”

        He pulled out and wrapped one hand around his length. The other he used to tilt Meridan’s chin upwards. Hux stroked himself to completion, spurting onto Mer’s face and neck. The ensign licked up what he could and ended by sucking the tip of Hux’s thumb. The general appraised him. “You’re such a beautiful mess.” His chrono beeped and he checked the time and rolled his eyes. “Shit. I have to get to the projection room for another pointless vid-conference. There are sanitary wipes in the middle drawer; clean yourself up before you leave here. Then come by my quarters at 1930. I’ll see to you then. Do not touch yourself until you arrive this evening.”

        “You’re kidding me,” Meridan groaned. Their date—or whatever it ought to be called—was nearly seven hours away.   

        “No. I am absolutely serious. Take a cold shower if you have to. I want you to wait for me.”

        The ensign gave him a piercingly grumpy look before reaching into the drawer for the wipes.

 

The remainder of Meridan’s shift was more than trying. Over several hours, his erection would return unexpectedly and require minutes of careful focus on technical work to abate. It didn’t help that Meridan continued to both replay the scene in Hux’s office and imagine what they’d be doing later on in the evening.

        Three hours into this struggle, Byri leaned in over his console. “What’s going on, Ensign Noro?”

        He frowned up at her, knowing she wouldn’t accept “Nothing” as an answer. “I’m waiting on General Hux.”

        “For what? A promise ring?”

        Meridan glowered. “For him to finish what we started earlier in his office.”

        “Oh my fucking gods. Do you think he’d give you the security footage?”

        This was something he hadn’t considered. Unless Hux had disabled the cameras, there would be documentation. “Oh. Shit.” He was fairly certain he’d never been filmed until today.

        “You hadn’t thought of that.” Asja Byri watched her friend and colleague color abruptly.

        “No." To excuse his oversight, he added, "I was a little busy at the time.”

        “So,” she began casually. “If he were to give you a copy of said evidence…” The rest of the sentence hung in midair.

        “Yes?”

        “Movie night? With snacks?”

        “I hate you.”

        “Fine. Just loan it to me, then. If you’re so shy.”

* * *

 “Well?” Hux asked, leaning over him just a bit, half-threatening, half-enticing.

        “Well what?”

        “Did you follow my instructions and hold out?”

        Meridan glared a little, his arms defiantly crossed against his chest. “Yes. And I’m not particularly happy about it.”

        “I am.” He reached a hand over and palmed Meridan through his trousers. The ensign began to respond immediately despite his annoyance. “I’m glad you saved up your load for me.” He bit Meridan’s neck a little too hard for it to count as playful.

        When he heard it put that way, Meridan suddenly didn’t mind anymore. He wished Hux had explained his order earlier. “What do you want to do with me?”

        “I want to make you spurt all over yourself, then I intend to play with it.”

        “Maker.” Meridan was looking forward to finding out what Hux meant by _play._ As it turned out, the general’s definition involved him using it to trace his last name on Meridan’s chest, then employing it as lubricant while he thrust his fingers deep inside the ensign’s ass with one hand and casually stroked himself with the other.

        “You’re young,” the general observed, leaning over him. “Do you think you can climax a second time tonight?”

        “If so, you’d be the one to make it happen.” Meridan was still giddy from the mess he’d made on himself not ten minutes ago. But with three of Hux’s fingers all the way inside him, watching the redhead masturbate with _his_ ejaculate… It just might be possible.

        “I want to drive you out of your mind with pleasure. To make you writhe and scream for me. To hear you beg and have you not know yourself whether you want me to stop or keep going.” Hux’s eyes were darker than Meridan had seen them. He looked particularly dangerous at the moment, and as if to underline that fact, he rubbed his fingertips against Meridan’s prostate. “I haven’t wanted to go this hard with someone in years. Possibly a decade.”

        “Oh hells, Hux. I don’t know if I can come, but please don’t stop.”

        “Do you want more?”

        “Yes. Please fuck me.”

        “How?”

        “Like this, on my back. So I can watch you enjoy me.”

        Hux threw Meridan’s legs up against his chest and entered him. “Gods, your arse feels like it’s on _fire_.”

        The pulsing cock inside him felt deeper than ever before; Hux hadn’t had him in this position yet. “And you’re always…” He let out a gasp at a particularly well-placed thrust before completing his thought. “Quite cool to the touch.”

        “So you’ve noticed. My body temperature tends toward the lower limit of normal.”

        “Is that why you wear the greatcoat so much?”

        “Yes. That and I feel I look rather dashing in it.”

        “You do. The first time I saw a holo of you, I didn’t know whether to be terrified or turned on.” Meridan still felt this conflict, especially on the bridge where General Hux was in his element. Here in the man’s quarters, though, arousal always won out easily. But the intimidation factor never completely disappeared either.

        “Good.” Hux took stock of himself. “I think I have ten or fifteen minutes left in me. Can I bring you to climax by then?”

        Meridan nodded, sweat shining on his brow. “I believe so.”

        “How can I help?” He was already tugging away at the half-hard cock below him.

        “Promise to someday fuck me while you’re wearing that coat.”

        “You have yourself a deal. Full dress uniform. I’ll strip you and hold you down. At knifepoint if you’d like. I have a very nice dress piece.” He was grinning, his disheveled hair falling down across his forehead.

        Meridan imagined gazing at the stripes on the man’s sleeves while pinned him to the bed… or floor. The addition of a weapon to the scenario only caused his stomach to take extra flips. “And take what you want.”

        “You know I will.” Despite the playful banter, the glint in Hux’s eyes was absolutely deadly. “Time and again.” By now he was ramming the man’s ass, their bodies slapping together obscenely.

        “No mercy,” Meridan gasped.

        “No… fucking… mercy. _Ever_ ,” Hux promised. Or threatened. Either way, it sent a jolt through Meridan’s balls as a second climax tore through him.

 

As they laid apart, panting shallowly and recovering, Hux threaded his fingertips through Meridan’s hair and spoke.

        “I should have broached this topic earlier, before we… got carried away again. We need to talk about language. What shouldn’t I say to you?”

        “Nothing. I’ll be fine with anything you want to say.”

        “I think we both know that probably isn’t true. Look, I can let go and rattle off whatever comes to mind at the time, but I can guarantee that sooner or later you aren’t going to like it. And it’s not about me not wanting to offend or insult you—but I don’t want to ruin a good fuck.” Hux wasn’t sure if he meant that last part. He had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t entirely self-motivated about this, but he certainly didn’t want to let Meridan in on that fact. Not yet. _Not ever,_ he corrected himself.

        Meridan sighed heavily in resignation. “You want a list?”

        Hux nodded.

        “Can I put one together and send it to you later? So I don’t have to say any of it out loud?”

        “Of course.”

        Meridan Noro returned to his own room to think about words he never wanted to hear spoken again. Three hours later, Hux was still awake when his datapad alerted him to a new message. He brought it up, looked it over, and began shaking his head.

_Nouns: bitch, cocksucker, disappointment, fag(got), invert, pervert, piece of shit, sissy, slut, trash, whore_

_Verbs: correct, fix, take care_

_Adjectives: cheap, disappointing, disgusting, pathetic, perverted, pointless, useless, worthless_

        His whole repertoire was going to need revising. Well, besides _fag_ and _invert_. Even he found those insulting—especially the latter’s underlying moronic belief that gender and sex somehow ought to determine sexuality.

 _Wait_. He glanced back at the screen and realized that Meridan had sent him an alphabetized list. _Good boy._ He sent a return message.

_Thank you._

A moment later, his pad pinged again.

                   _On the topic of language, how many do you speak?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What we've got going on here:  
> *On-duty shenanigans  
> *Mild orgasm denial  
> *More negotiation, if a bit delayed


	12. Dinner & After

The new officers were dining together in a private room off the canteen. Between soup and the main course, Nik leaned in over the table and spoke in a low, conspiratorial tone.

         “Has anyone else noticed our Dear General has been rather… gentler in recent weeks?”

         “Yes!” Huula agreed enthusiastically. “What the hell do you think is up with him?”

         Tariqe chimed in, her voice bright with amusement. “There’s a rumor going around Infantry that he’s getting laid regularly.” She’d been spending the last fortnight working on Infantry training with Captain Phasma. “And that it’s one of us.”

         Half the officers shifted in their seats to turn toward Byri.

         “What are you looking at?” she snapped.

         “Is it you?” Nik asked, his voice so quiet it was almost hushed.

         “No!” She gulped down the remainder of her mineral water, wishing desperately it were wine. “And you’re all a bunch of idiots. Hux doesn’t even like girls.” She could say that much. Of course she wasn’t going to throw Meridan under the bus, but there was no point in letting the rest of the group suspect she was the one involved with the general. Because it wouldn’t take long for them to figure out that she _wished_ it were true.

         “Oh,” Nik and Huula said in unison.

         “Huh,” commented Tariqe. “Well, then it isn’t any of you three. Or me, obviously, since I had no idea. Noro?”

         He couldn’t help but blush; he’d managed to stay out of the conversation this long but he had no control over the blood vessels in his face. He busied himself by folding and refolding the already tidy napkin on his lap.

         Nik reached over and gave him a light punch to the shoulder. “Good going, man. And thanks for taking the edge off him.”

         “Who tops?” Tariqe asked shamelessly.

         “None of your fucking business!” Meridan snapped far too loudly and immediately felt quite sheepish. “Sorry. I’m not comfortable talking about this.”

         “You know,” Asja started conversationally, waving her spoon for emphasis, “a lot of gay men aren’t strictly tops or bottoms. It’s called ‘being versatile’.”

         “ _Thank you_ , Ensign Byri,” Meridan commented sarcastically. “That was most informative.”

         She shrugged, not taking the jab personally at all. “Just trying to help you out here, Noro.”

 

After dinner, Nik cornered Meridan on the way back towards the officers’ deck.

         “So, what’s he like? When you’re alone?”

         “Different. Less formal. Surprisingly thoughtful.”

         “Still full of himself?”

         “Well…” Meridan tried to think of a way to tell the truth without it sounding like an insult. After years of awkward shyness and unspoken shame from partners, Hux’s self-confidence was a refreshing change of pace. “He has a good deal to be proud of.”

         “That good in bed, huh?” If they’d been in closer proximity, Meridan was afraid Nik would have elbowed him meaningfully.

         “That’s not what I was talking about, Nik.”

         “Does he order you around there too?”

         Once again he found himself flushed and he coughed quietly in embarrassment. Nik had grown on him a great deal, but Meridan didn’t consider him a good enough friend to discuss the intricacies of his private life with him.

         “I’m not judging, believe me. I like that sort of thing myself, with women.”

         “Oh.” For some reason, this admission immediately changed Meridan’s willingness to talk. “Actually, this is all rather new for me. Not the sex,” he clarified. “But the…”

         “…Power play?”

         “Yes. Say, Nik… Um…”

         “Do you have questions?”

         “Maybe.”

         Nik smiled kindly. “When’s your next shift?”

         Meridan glanced at his chrono. “Eighteen hours, give or take.”

         “In that case, let’s head to the lounge. We can have a drink.”

         Once in the lounge, they settled into nearby armchairs, each with a whiskey in hand.

         “Alright," Nik began. “First we should go over some basics. Do you have a safeword?” Meridan nodded. “Good. Does he provide aftercare?” Meridan looked lost. “When you’re finished playing, does he treat you gently? Hold you, tell you how well you’ve behaved and pleased him?”

         “Yes.”

         “That’s aftercare.”

         “I figured it was just pillow-talk.”

         “It’s more than that. It should make you feel more than an object, and him less cruel. Y’know, like you’re both human. And partners.”

         “So you do this with women? You’re the… submissive one?” Nik nodded. “How… How do you hold on to respect for yourself? When you let someone—when you _want_ someone—to treat you like they own you?” A persistent crease had formed on Meridan’s forehead.

         “Well, it’s all about the person, isn’t it? I mean, you wouldn’t want anyone to do those things, right? No, because it’s about trust as much as pleasure. And there’s nothing wrong with trusting a lover or finding pleasure where you can.”

         “I suppose not.” He didn’t sound or feel convinced.

         “You’re having trouble believing that. Look, I know it doesn’t seem… manly. Hardly the sort of thing a soldier is supposed to want. We’re not supposed to enjoy being held down and made to beg and defer our own climaxes. But fuck that. Fuck their expectations and assumptions. And I may be presuming something myself here, but I figure you might already have experience with that.”

         “How so?”

         “Well, depending on where you’re from, being gay could have been very difficult.”

          Meridan looked sullenly at the floor. “Yes. Pridax isn’t the most… understanding location.” It was the most diplomatic way he could find to phrase it.

         “So you’ve dealt with other people's banthashit before. And this tends to be much more private, just between you and your partners. I’m sure he’s going to be discreet and not tell everyone on board that you’re his sex-toy. I mean, most of us didn’t even now he was gay.”

         “He’s very quiet about his personal life.”

         “I’m guessing he has more experience with kink than you?”

         Meridan looked straight ahead and sighed slowly; the conversation was approaching a deeper concern. “Oh hells yes. I really have no idea what I’m doing. And _Hux_... Nik, he’s been with so many men.”

         “Well, he’s with you now. You must be something.”

 

On his way out of the lounge, Meridan received a private message from Hux.

         — _Stop by when you’re free. And if you have the time_   _and inclination_ , _stay the night._

         Trying not to appear as though he were rushing, he rushed to his own quarters to put together an overnight kit. Arriving at Hux’s door, he found the general in the living room, tapping away at his datapad.

        “How was dinner?” he asked, glancing up.

         With a sigh, Meridan set down his satchel. “Miserable.”

         A raised eyebrow in surprise, followed by, “How so?”

         “Well, the whole group now knows we’re fucking.”

         Hux let out a soft chuckle, shrugged, and said, “It was bound to happen eventually.”

         Meridan found the general’s lack of concern infuriating. “I just accidentally outed myself and admitted to fraternization with the most senior officer in the whole damn military, and you’re laughing.”

         The redhead’s smile vanished. “I’m sorry.” He put his pad down and patted the space beside him in invitation. “How did they take it?”

         “How?” Meridan asked as he sunk down onto the couch. “They thanked me for taking the edge off you and Tariqe wanted to know who tops. Which, by way, I declined to answer.”

         Hux risked another smile. “So not exactly nuclear fallout.”

         “No,” the junior officer admitted. “I’m just not used to being open about this sort of thing.”

         “I know.” The general slid an arm around him to pull him closer. “Let me tell you what I’ve been thinking,” he said in between nips and kisses to Meridan’s neck.

         “Yes?”

         “Since you’ve been such a good student, I’m going to give you a few more rules.”

         Meridan waited quietly for elaboration. He was trying to learn a bit of patience as well, although this was a painful lesson when it came to sex in general and General Hux specifically.

         “When removing your clothes, I’ll require you to do so tidily. That means folding or hanging them as you go.” He raised Meridan’s face toward his with a finger under his chin. “Understand, boy?”

         “Yes, sir.”

         “When we’re together, you’re not to climax without my permission.”

         “No, sir.” He’d figured that out on his own. Hux seemed to derive particular pleasure from commanding his orgasms. And Meridan was learning the satisfaction from prolonging the activities that proceeded them.

         “And when my hair’s in place, don’t you _dare_ muss it up.”

         Meridan frowned at this one. There was something about Hux’s perfectly gelled hairstyle that made his fingers ache to rumple it up. “No, sir,” he agreed, even though he was already planning on finding out exactly how the redhead would punish him for a breach of this third rule. Surely the repercussions couldn’t be all that bad.

* * *

 

They laid on top of the rumpled sheets, sweat and ejaculate drying on their skin. Hux lightly brushed a palm over Meridan’s lower back and heard him hiss in response.

         “Did that hurt?” he asked, head tilted in immediate concern.

         “Yes and no. Sometimes it… tingles and burns. The skin there, on my back.”

         The redhead nodded, knowing that Meridan was referring to his scars. It wasn’t exactly a euphemism since they constituted most of the surface area of his back. “When?”

         “It’s unpredictable. A touch from a hand or the rub of my clothes. Water in the shower. Sleeping on my back. Sometimes it happens without any contact at all.” He wasn’t certain how to adequately convey the startling, prickling shiver that would run across his skin unexpectedly. It felt like an electrical current misfiring.

         Hux understood what this meant. “You have some nerve damage. How did you tend to your injuries after receiving them?”

         “Rubbing alcohol and a few bacta patches, usually.”

         “That’s all?” A nod. “It was insufficient. You needed neural repair before the scar tissue formed.” He sighed quietly. Meridan had required a good deal more medical attention than a protocol droid and little sister had been able to provide. Psychotherapy wouldn’t have hurt, either. “Unfortunately neuropathy is still tricky to treat, especially years after the initial insult. You could try using a topical anesthetic if it bothers you.” It certainly bothered Hux, thinking that any incidental caress to the young man’s back could cause him unintended discomfort. He was discovering that when they spent time alone together, he often wanted to touch Meridan—not just sexually, but casually. It was calming, comforting, and although he would say no such thing, he hoped the feeling was mutual.

         “Like I said, it’s not really painful. More annoying than anything. At worst it’s bearable.”

 _Thus far_ , Hux thought. As Meridan aged, his neuropathy would likely progress to neuralgia. He could easily end up debilitated from pain that typical analgesics would hardly touch. Nerve blocks would help, but they’d probably put him out of commission in his career. That was a depressing thought indeed: this brilliant, ambitious man crippled at forty from what his father had done to him when he was fourteen and defenseless. Hux felt an impotent rage rise inside him, which the ensign was quick to notice.

         “Don’t pity me,” Meridan ordered, sounding more authoritative than Hux had ever heard him.

         “Pity’s not what I’m feeling.” Hux was trying to find the right word for what he _did_ feel. The general was accustomed to discussing everything—the intricacies of strategy, trade negotiations, starship engineering—but his own emotions. “It’s outrage. And… disgust.”

         “You shouldn’t be surprised.”

         “I’m not. I know this sort of thing is still quite common. And that’s just as horrifying.”

         Ensign Noro shrugged noncommittally before squaring his jaw and narrowing his eyes. “Maybe it made me stronger.”

         Hux gave him a sharp look. “Do you believe that?” Perhaps he did. The general had met scores of soldiers who felt that way about their own suffering. But somehow he could tell this one was different, that he didn’t ascribe to easy platitudes about the sorts of experiences that built character. Because Noro was more than a simple soldier; he was a thinker, an analyst, and had the makings of a good leader.

         Meridan’s defiant look collapsed under its own weight and he looked away before his commander could see the moisture building in his eyes. “No.” What had it made him, exactly? Fragile? Volatile? Defective? _All the above_.

         “How deep do these run?” Hux asked, lightly tapping a stripe with a fingertip. “How much does it still hurt?” Now he wasn’t asking about the physical pain, and he knew Meridan understood that.

         Tears began to fall onto the pillow supporting Meridan’s head. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I’m afraid to find out.”

         “I don’t want to scar you any further,” the redhead heard himself say softly. “But I don’t know how to avoid it. The things I want… We really shouldn’t…” Not for the first time, he told himself he’d chosen the wrong partner to introduce to the world of sadism. _Should have just fucked him the once and broken it off._ But once glance at the ensign and he knew he would have been incapable of stopping there. The only thing that could’ve kept him coming back for more would be Meridan’s refusal.

         Meridan turned to him and kissed him fiercely. “Shut up, you ass. I’ll tell you if what you want is too much. I promised that.”

         “But I want… more than I ought to from you.” The general withdrew his hand, not wanting to be touching Meridan during the admission that followed. “I want to hit you sometimes. I want to call you a whore.” Hux shook his head, wishing he could just as easily shrug off some of his desires. He felt he ought to be capable of being a conventional lover for Meridan’s sake. Because he figured that was what the young man deserved; he should be supported and valued and loved. The things Hux doubted he could properly provide, even if he'd been willing to try.

         “I know. Just don’t and it’s okay.”

          _It really isn’t._ But the redhead nodded anyway.

         “Remember, I’m the only one who knows my limits. You have to believe that.”

         “True,” Hux admitted. Meridan was new to this game, but already he was explaining the rules. Thanks for reminding me.”

         Many minutes passed in silence before Meridan spoke again. “Hux?” he asked tentatively.

         The sound of his name spoken aloud snapped the general back from the edge of sleep. “What is it?”

         “What’s your first name?”

         Hux snorted. “Armitage. Don’t ask; stupid family tradition. There’s a reason I don’t use it.”

         There was a long pause before Meridan continued. “Did your father beat you too?"

         “No,” came the reply from the darkness. “He was less than accepting, but he didn’t express it physically. To hear him explain it, domestic violence was something for the lower orders of society to engage in. Like religion.”

         “Did he try… to correct you? For liking men?”

         “He—” Hux was having trouble saying these words, because even though his experience had been so much easier than Meridan’s, it was still humiliating. “Yes. He had me go out with girls a few times.” He grimaced at the memories. Especially of—what was her name? Jinna something? “He offered to pay me, although I declined. And I know he paid _them_.”

         “To go out with you? I doubt that.” Meridan had trouble imagining that anyone who liked men would require payment to agree to a date with Hux.

         “No, to try to fuck me after.” Linna Jayce. And now the images were impossible to hold back, as was as the accompanying vertigo. The fumbling fellatio in the back of his vehicle, the way he’d finally squeezed his eyes shut and desperately forced himself to imagine another classmate, and only then had he managed to come. The tears that had sprung to his eyes when he felt her gag, trying to swallow. Trying so eagerly to _please_ him. So much effort for so much guilt. “It never worked.”

         “Oh.” Meridan brought an arm around the redhead’s waist. “I’m sorry, Hux.”

         “So am I.”

         “Do you have a middle name?”

         “Yes. Declan. It’s from my mother’s side.” This conversation was the most he’d spoken about his early years since he’d gone through them firsthand.

         “I like it. Can I use it?”

         Hux nodded. No one had called him that since… he shoved back the memory. _It’s been some time._ But as he fell back towards sleep, his defenses wavered and the name repeated across the years. _Seachnall. Seachnall always called me Declan._ The two syllables slipped out from between his lips. “Seachnall,” he mumbled into his pillow.

         Meridan had no idea what the word meant, and he didn’t ask. He just let Hux sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Inadvertent self-outing  
> -Yet still more negotiation  
> -No sex, just talking about it  
> -Attempts at discussing feelings
> 
> Not to sound like a comments-whore, but please leave some if you have anything to say.


	13. Correspondence

_Hux is in the back of his speeder with the girl he just took out to dinner. The roof is up and the air conditioning is going. It’s been a warm week. School is coming to a close. The Academy is looming; his whole life is calling._

_Linna Jayce is kissing him insistently, and he rather likes it. Her lips are soft and warm and she wants him. He wants to want her back. He kisses her neck and feels her shudder against him. Perhaps he can make this work, can convince his body and the more primitive parts of his mind that this is acceptable. Sufficient._

_“Take your shirt off, Declan,” she breathes. While he pulls it over his head, she unbuttons her blouse in turn. She runs her fingertips down his naked skin, brushes against his nipples. Her hand drops to his lap and she takes a light hold of him through his trousers. The warmth and friction alone have him half-hard. He wonders how much of his adolescent lust will be able to spill over for a female. Maybe he can figure out a way for this to suffice. Everything would be so much easier. “I want to go down on you,” she murmurs into his ear._

_Declan Hux imagines the list of boys in their_   _graduating class_ _who would kill to hear these words. It makes him nervous. “Don’t… Don’t bother.”_

_“Shut up, Declan.” She unbuttons and unzips his pants, then slides her fingers under the band of his briefs. She pets his bare cock and it twitches in response. “Please let me.”_

_He lets out a small moan of surrender and sinks back against his seat. He lets her pull his pants and briefs down to his ankles. She kneels on the floorboard in front of him. He looks down at her eager face in the low light and tells himself that she’s pretty and he should be grateful—she’s giving herself without him asking. That’s when Linna starts licking him._

_He wonders if she’s done this before. He hopes she has; he doesn’t want to be the first. Who did she date before him? Wasn’t it Vim? He imagines her on her knees in front of the other boy, his hand playing with her hair, his eyes closed, a gasp escaping his reddened lips…_

_Hux is fully hard now. Linna’s lips are sealed around the head of his cock and she’s beginning to suck him off. He likes the messy sound of it. He focuses on the image of Vim, and behind his closed eyes he sees the blond boy between his legs, his head dipping down again and again._

_Linna takes him in a bit more and his breath catches in his throat. She notices and sighs a little, happy to please him, but her voice is wrong. Too high, too soft. He starts losing his focus and his erection, and desperately forces all his fantasies to the front of his mind._

_A memory accompanies them. His first blowjob. Tiko’s dark hair in curls, the heat of his mouth and the delicious sucking noises he made. The way Hux hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes before crying out in surprise and joy. Tiko’s smiling face looking up at him, a drop of come on his lips…_

_Hux squeezes his eyelids tight, places a hand on top of Linna’s head and strokes the curls there._ Yes. Tiko. Right there. _He comes with a quiet grunt and Linna must not have been expecting it yet because she gags a little as she struggles to swallow. Just like that, he’s no longer enjoying his orgasm, although his hips continue to buck against her face._

_Hux opens his eyes and pulls out before he’s completely finished. He’s still dripping a little, but he doesn’t want to get any more in her mouth, doesn’t want to inconvenience her further. He can clean the floorboards later. “I’m sorry,” he whispers._

_“Don’t be,” she manages._

_There are tears in his eyes. “But I am. I’m so fucking sorry for all of this, and for dragging you into it.” He puts a hand on her cheek and brushes a finger across her lips, wiping them clean. He pulls her up and back onto the seat and starts buttoning her blouse back up. “I’d please you if I could bring myself to do it. That would only be fair.”_

_“Declan.” His name sounds like a warning she doesn’t want to vocalize any further_ _._

_“I’m sure you know. We’ve been dancing around this for some time. Too long.”_

_“Shut up.”_

_“I’m gay.”_

_“I know that, Declan!" she huffs. “I’m not a bloody idiot!”_

_His tears spill onto his cheeks and they feel like failure. Declan Hux grabs his jacket and leaves the speeder. His hands fumble through the pockets for his cigarettes and sparker. He’s taking his first deep drag when Linna exits the speeder from the other door and walks around to his side._

_“Give me one of those,” she demands._

_He hands her the one he just started and lights another for himself. They breathe in the smoke in silence for a few moments. “I shouldn’t have let you do that. I wish I could take it back.” Right now he wishes he could take back all the time and effort he’s wasted in his attempts at normality._

_“I thought it might work. It seemed to work.”_

_He shrugs guiltily. “It took… focus.”_

_“You weren’t thinking about me.”_

_“No.” The admission tastes like bile._

_She tears up as well but blinks it away. “Shit.” She turns around and gives his speeder a quick kick. “I want you to want me.”_

_“So do I. You’re smart, pretty, and amusing. You’re exactly the sort of person I should want.”_

_“But I’m not going to convince you. So stop trying to be convinced.” He looks at her in surprise. “What? You need to fuck whoever you were just thinking about instead.”_

_“It’s ‘whomever’. And I can’t. Not with the bloody Commandant breathing down my neck.”_

_“Your father is just going to have to get over himself. And you’ll be off to the Academy soon.” She sighs as she finishes her cigarette and stomps it out. “Just one request.”_

_He raises an eyebrow in that way that just makes her weak._

_“Send me pictures? Or vids?” His mouth opens and shuts wordlessly. She punches him lightly on the shoulder. “C’mon. I got you off. Return the favor indirectly.”_

_He grins. “I’ll see what I can do.”_

 

_Seven months later, he sends her a message entitled “As Requested.” It has no text, only an attachment. Linna Jayce slips in her earbuds and clicks it open, feeling the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickle._

_A vid starts. It looks like it was shot in a small hotel room. A shirtless boy is lying face-up on the bed, smiling. His blond hair is close-cropped, military regulation length, and there are freckles scattered across his nose and cheekbones. Service identification tags lay atop his bare chest,_   _rising and falling with his breaths._

_“You going to send this to her?” he asks with a too-innocent smile.  Your ex-girlfriend?”_

_There’s a glare behind the response, Linna knows Hux’s voice well enough to tell. “If you’re good, yes.”_

_He rolls his eyes as he points out, “I’m always good, Declan. For you, at least.”_

_“Yes. You are. Take your trousers off.”_

_The candidate complies, sliding his pants off and then hooking his thumbs around the band of his briefs. Linna swallows hard as she watches him slowly expose his hip bones. He’s built like a swimmer with wiry muscles, rather like Declan Hux. “What do you want from me?”_

_“Everything. Start with your mouth.”_

_Hux is so much more confident than he ever was with Linna. He seems older, more authoritative. With her he’d always been a timid mess, but with this boy, he’s clearly in his element. She watches as the other candidate puts his lips around the cock presented to him. Her hand dips below her waistband as Hux begins talking in a low, steady voice she never heard._

_“Gods… Yes. Seachnall. You’re lovely. More._ More _.”_

_The boy is making all kinds of little sounds—sucking, moaning, humming. Hux is pressing into his throat._

_“That’s it. Now let go of me. I need to fuck you.”_

_She sees Seachnall’s eyes gleaming happily. “With pleasure.” He turns over and gets on his knees. Hux positions himself behind him, grabs a nearby bottle of lube, and gets the two of them ready. He eases himself in silently, one hand resting on the small of the other boy's back. Seachnall is already panting in anticipation, “Declan. Declan.”_

_Hux sets the camera down on the bedside table to free both his hands. He places them around Seachnall’s waist and begins thrusting. She sees him fully for the first time. He looks healthy; he’s been training. His own tags bounce lightly against his skin. Hux’s movements are mesmerizing, fluid and natural. Seachnall is the partner he was always meant to have. Their bodies fit; their personalities match; everything works._

_Linna already has two fingers in herself and is pressing on her clit with the pad of her thumb. She sees something besides sex on the screen in front of her. Passion. Joy. Maybe, just maybe something more._

_Hux works Seachnall’s arse over for about five minutes before they both become verbal again. They’re murmuring each other’s names, cursing a lot, laughing a little. Hux wraps a hand around his partner’s cock and begins pumping it. Then Linna hears it, muttered from Seachnall first. She thinks he said “I love it,” but then he repeats himself and it’s clearer this time._

_“Love you, Declan.”_

_She waits for Hux to brush it off. But to her complete surprise, he reciprocates. “I love you too, Seachnall. And I’m about to come. Ready for me?”_

_“Always.”_

_The next day, she sends him a response._

_Declan,_

_Thank you. Also I wanted to let you know that I never accepted your father’s money._

 

* * *

 

To: Meridan Noro, Ensign First Class, _Finalizer_

From: Westin Alkaram, Ensign Second Class, _Indomitable_

 

Mer—

         I hope your posting is going well. I'm sure it's exciting and you're impressing everyone like you always have. But I hope you’re happy with it.

         I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you since we left. I had a lot of things to think about, I’m sure you’ve guessed that. But I managed not to think about anything important for quite a while. I mean it’s been, what, five months since we shipped out? So why now? Because there’s a girl. A  woman. She’s in the Engineering Corps. Really smart, really pretty, and she likes me. So I figured why not give it a shot, since she kept dropping obvious hints.

         It went alright for a while. Until she cornered me (literally! In my own room!). Saying she was tired of waiting, that we were grownups and should finally get down to it. I tried, Mer, I really did. But I couldn’t get interested without closing my eyes and thinking of you. And it didn’t last. It didn’t feel _right_. Not like it did when we spent time together.

         So there you have it. I’m sure you knew, but now I’m saying it. I’ve been a complete fucking idiot.

         Thanks for putting up with me.

                   With a wry smile,

                   West

 

Meridan stood up from the couch and strode over to the desk where the general was absorbed in reviewing schematics. Calling up West’s message, he passed his datapad to Hux without comment.

         “Oh gods,” Hux chuckled as he began reading. It soon turned into a full laugh that only let up when he noticed Meridan’s glower over his shoulder. “What? It’s perfect. I think you should be pleased that he’s getting around to discovering himself.”

         “He couldn’t have possibly discovered himself when _I_ was around. And more than willing to help.”

         “No, he couldn’t. So stop being such a bitter arse.”

         The response came in a perfectly flat tone. “Really.”

         “I sincerely doubt it. He wouldn’t admit it as long as he could think of you as a convenient substitute. I think he had to come face to face with what he thought he wanted—and discover that it didn’t do the trick in comparison. Disappointment can be a real eye-opener.” He switched his own pad off, stood, and stretched in his chair. As his spine popped in a reminder of just how long he’d been sitting working, he headed to the couch, pulling Meridan along by the hand. He took a detour to pour himself two fingers of whiskey.

         “You speak from experience.” It wasn’t a question. “How many girls did you try to… be with?” He laid back lengthwise on the sofa and stretched his legs out across Hux’s lap.

         The general swirled the alcohol around the bottom of his glass. “Three, when I was still attempting to call myself bisexual. I knew for sure after the first. But for some reason I thought I might be able to force myself to make do. I managed to do so many other things that were expected of me.” He started listing them in his head. Most of those things he’d found he had a natural knack for: marksmanship, strategy, memorization, self-control, leadership. Some he’d come to master after years of practice, such as astrophysics and public speaking. But heterosexuality hadn’t fit onto either list. It was like the Rodian language—perfectly fine for Rodians, but he had no interest in learning it and there was no practical reason why he ought to. He had plenty of other things to do with his time, and once he’d hit the Academy his preferences had mostly stopped mattering. Marks, dedication, and wits had counted, not the sort of people he wanted to sleep with when off-duty. ~~~~

Now Hux knocked back his drink, choked back his usual reticence, and admitted something he’d never spoken aloud. “When I was fifteen, I sent myself to therapy.”

         “For what?”

         The general found himself wanting to ask, _What do you think?_ But that was the sort of thing Meridan would snap, and Hux had to maintain a firmer grip on himself than that. “I wanted to see if it could help me… fix myself. As I thought of it at the time.”

         “Fuck. Did they try to convert you?”

         “No, although that’s what I asked for. Luckily the doctor I saw refused point-blank, citing inefficacy and psychological damage. The most he said he could do was help some with the shame.”

         “Did he?” The ensign asked this wondering if he himself would have benefited from therapy, or at least from the sympathy of an uninvolved listener.

         “I suppose so. Anyway, I think it’s time we turned in for the evening.”

         As they settled into bed, Meridan turned to him with a mischievous smile. “Did you fuck him?”

         “The psychiatrist? Are you kidding me? No.”

         A shrug. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

         “I was fifteen! What’s wrong with your filthy little mind?” He reached over to tousle Meridan’s hair.

         “Eighty-five,” Meridan responded with a falsely haughty air before grabbing a corner of the blanket and curling up with it.

         Hux stroked the man’s hair for a few minutes, then corrected him with a whisper. “Eighty-six.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- Desperate attempt at heterosexuality  
> \- Consensual sharing of homemade porn  
> \- Brief reference to the concept of conversion therapy


	14. All in the Timing (Wait for It)

Meridan stood in the doorway of the bedroom. He was spending more nights here than in his own quarters these days, which begged certain questions. One of which he was currently building up the courage to ask. He cleared his throat before launching into it. “Hux? What is it that we’re doing?”

         The general looked up from his screen. He had multiple answers, depending on what Meridan was really asking him. “How so?”

         “You know…” He left the rest of the sentence to hang unarticulated in the air between them.

         “I assuredly do not.” And he didn’t want to be having two different conversations at the same time.

         “Us. What are we to each other?”

          _Ah. That._ Hux remained silent because this question he didn’t actually have a ready answer for.

         “Are we just… fucking?”

         Hux peered intently at Meridan and recognized the fear in his expression. The man was worried about two things in almost equal measure: that Hux didn’t care for him, and that Hux was falling for him. Conflicted, of course, but that was the natural state of the human mind. “No. But we’re not exactly dating, either.” Simply put, General A. D. Hux did not date. He dropped innuendos, he flirted—he’d even _dance_ , if it came to that—but it never led to dating. It led to sex. Which sometimes led to more sex.

         “I figured that. Are we… partners?” Meridan couldn’t imagine calling Hux his—or anyone else’s—boyfriend. Lover, perhaps, although that had connotations of a deeper connection than they were making.

         “Yes. That’s a good word for it. You know that I respect you immensely, yes? Personally as well as professionally?”

         Meridan smiled genuinely. “Thank you.” Then he asked shyly, “Are you seeing anyone else?”

         “No. Are you?” Why would he? Ensign Noro was satisfying him, and even if he’d had the inclination, he most certainly did not have the free time.

         “Of course not. I don’t have the energy for that. Not after you’re through with me.” Meridan refrained from asking if theirs was an exclusive arrangement by design or just happenstance. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer either way.

         The general smiled enigmatically. “Oh? I keep you amused, then?”

         “You exhaust me, Hux.”

         “Glad I can keep up with a young thing like you.”

         Meridan made a dismissive noise. “You’re not that old.”

         “How old am I, then?”

          The ensign squinted in thought. “Thirty-four.”

         “Good guess. Thirty-five.”

         “So you made general when you were what? Thirty-one? How did you swing that? I know you’re a tactical genius, but _still_.” Meridan was aware that early promotions were about politics and networking as much as competence.

         “You may have noticed that I don’t require much sleep. Also, I’m good at reading people and…”

         “Using them?”

         Hux inclined his head in the smallest of nods. “Well, yes.” He waited to see if this admission startled or offended Meridan. It did neither; instead the young officer smiled.

         “I certainly like the way you use me.”

         This opened up the door for discussing their plans this evening. “And how would you like me to use you tonight?”

         “How about that rope in the drawer? Know any fancy knots?” He already knew the answer; he just wanted to discover the details through firsthand experience. 

 

Hux had him tied in a fetal position on the bed, knees up to his stomach and strung to his wrists, which were themselves attached to a loop around his neck that threaded through his collar. Meridan wasn’t roped to anything but himself. The view of Hux leaning over him was the last thing he saw before the blindfold slipped over his eyes.

         “What do you think you deserve tonight, Pet?”

         Meridan wracked his mind for a proper response. “I… I don’t know, sir. Whatever you decide is fitting.”

         “You’re the one who asked to be tied up. I suppose I’ll have to figure out the rest.”

         Hux settled on tickle torture, since there wasn’t anything to actually punish the man for. In five minutes’ time his feather-light touches had Meridan rolling around the bed as best he could, tears streaming from the sides of the blindfold, choking on his own laughter. The general was chuckling as well, but silently. Since Meridan couldn’t see him, he had no way of telling just how diverting this was for him as well. He hadn’t laughed this hard in years.

         Without warning, he stopped. He stood by the bed, unspeaking, unmoving. Eventually this was certain to unnerve Meridan; that was the point. Hux wanted to see how long it would take.

         Fifteen minutes later, Meridan finally spoke up. “Sir? Are you still there?”

         Hux heard the tremor in Meridan’s quiet voice and recognized that he was nearing a boundary of some sort. Neither was sure what lay on the other side, and Hux wasn’t ready to find out tonight. “Sh. I’m right here. I didn’t go anywhere.” He pulled down the blindfold to make eye contact. “Here I am. I’ve got you, Mer.” A quick peck on the lips, then the blindfold was back in place.

         And Meridan knew it. Hux would make certain everything turned out well. He could handle being in control of the both of them. And he would see to it that Meridan received precisely what he deserved. The ensign just didn’t yet know what that was.

         “I think it’s time I let you in on the rest of my plan. I’m going to last as long as I can tonight.”

         The ensign whimpered into his pillow.

         Hux was rearranging the restraints. He released Meridan’s legs—although the ankles remained loosely lashed together—and unhooked his wrists from the collar, then eased him up onto his knees. “Quiet now. I know you can handle it. You’re ready. Do you trust me?”

         Meridan realized that he did, even now. “Yes, sir.” He braced his palms against the mattress, then bit his lower lip when he discovered that Hux wasn’t going to prep him. _Be quiet, be good_ , he coached himself. Even so, a hiss escaped his mouth while the slicked cockhead pressed inside him, opening its own way.

         “Sh. I’ll start slow.” Both hands on his cheeks, gripping and squeezing. He didn’t intend for it to hurt; he just didn’t want to wait. “Such a lovely arse. Such a good boy.”

         The second whimper was more encouragement than warning, and Hux slid in all the way. He stayed still for a while as Meridan counted his own breaths and forced himself to relax.

         “It’s 2215. When do you think I’ll be done with you?” No response. A slap across his buttocks. “That wasn’t rhetorical. I’m taking bets here, Ensign Noro.” There was a warning tone to his voice.

         Meridan was torn between not wanting to insult Hux with a low number and not wishing to drive him to drag it out longer than he himself could stand. “Twenty-three fifteen,” he decided, then quickly added, “Sir.” Surely he could handle sixty minutes? Time tended to slip away when he was enjoying himself, and before tonight he’d been surprised to see just how many minutes could pass unaccounted for when the two of them were together.

         “An hour. Hm. Well, I’ve done it before.” He gave a short, sharp thrust to test the waters. He’d never gone an hour without the help of stimulants, and besides that, Meridan instinctively knew how to please him in ways that tended to speed things up significantly. Meeting the man’s goal would take extensive self-control, and probably some well-timed pace and position changes. If Hux got too invested in a rhythm, he’d been in danger of letting go before the time was up. “Control: give me time alerts in thirty and sixty minutes.” His attention returned to Meridan. “You’ll need to let me know if you’re getting close. I can’t have you spent and oversensitive before I’m finished.”

         “Yes, General.”

         Hux’s pulse fluttered at the word. He was still a bit surprised at the way he responded to his title in bed. He’d spent years keeping his career and his private life as separate as possible, yet this reminder drove him a little wild. Being called _Commander_ or even _Captain_ by a lover had nowhere near the effect of this rank spoken aloud. The highest rank currently attainable; at this point he could only receive more medals and commendations. Unless the hierarchy changed, unless a restructuring should occur…

         Brushing such thoughts of political advancement aside, he held Meridan in place by the hips and canted his own. A quiet sigh of pleasure greeted his movements. “There’s a good boy,” he praised, running a palm over Meridan’s right buttock. Massaging, soothing.

         Kept blind while Hux started in on him, Meridan could do nothing but feel. After only a few minutes he lost track of time. Unmoored from everything except the mattress he was lying on and the man taking his pleasure, Meridan’s mind floated aimlessly. It already seemed they’d been at this forever. Years, perhaps. He listened to Hux breathing above him, heard it become slightly ragged—and then the man stilled and slipped out of him.

         “No,” he couldn’t help but keen in protest. “Sir, please. More.”

         A low chuckle as Hux’s hands turned him onto his back. “Quiet, Pet. Fold your legs up now.” Hux hugged Meridan’s knees and reentered. “See? I’m only changing things up. Nowhere near done with you.”

         Meridan surrendered to the new angle and depth. He couldn’t control the sounds coming out of his mouth, nor did he care to. Each thrust displaced air from his lungs and forced out a noise of satisfaction along with it. Hux deserved to know the consequences of his motions. “Maker… fuck… nnn…” As Hux continued to pound into him, Meridan slowly gave up everything else.

          _Is this where I belong? How am I doing on the bridge? Do the others respect me?_

Career concerns vanished.

          _Is Hux satisfied with me? Does my inexperience make things awkward for him? Are my limits curbing his enjoyment?_

Worries about the general disappeared. This left only his oldest, deepest anxieties exposed.

          _Am I irreparably broken?_

For a long moment, he felt especially vulnerable. His breaths came shallow and fast, his eyes teared up again. But after a time, he realized he was asking himself the wrong question. At least for the moment, at least here in the general’s quarters, on his bed tonight, the answer was entirely irrelevant. What mattered was Hux and what their bodies were doing together. This physical engagement, this improvised dance. His words began to reflect this gratitude. “Thank you. Thank you.”

         “Of course,” Hux whispered. “Anything you need from me.”

         “Sir?” he asked, a silly grin spreading across his face.

         “Yes, boy?”

         “I’m… happy.” This discovery was surprising but accurate—he hadn’t felt an overwhelming abundance of joy in a long time. Perhaps ever. In the past, joy like this had always come tinged with fear and shame. And despite all his perversions, Hux had never given Meridan cause for either.

         Hux gave his own answering smile even though Meridan couldn’t see it. “This is what you needed, Mer. This is what you deserve.”

          _Happiness?_ That unexpected thought forced moisture from his eyes. As the joyful tears ran from behind the blindfold, Hux reached down to remove it. Somewhere in the background a chime indicated the passage of half an hour.

         The general caressed his cheek, rubbing the tears away—or in, perhaps—and answering the silent question. “Yes. You deserve to be happy. Any way you can get it. And I’m happy to give.”

         If Hux said it, then perhaps it was true. “Thank you, sir.”

         “No. Thank you.” Hux hadn’t fucked anyone to grateful tears in quite some time. It was extraordinarily rewarding, and encouraged him to set a punishing pace. Now he was certain that Meridan was lost in submission, he knew the ensign could handle it. As he thrust hard and deep, over and over, he began to speak the kindest things that were still appropriate under the circumstances. “Gods, you’re good at this. Letting me use you. Giving me exactly what I want without instruction. A natural. Fuck, I need you back on your knees again. I have to watch that arse whilst I’m deep inside it.” He withdrew and repeated some basic astronavigation equations in his head to center himself. Then he leaned over Meridan and pulled him into position, seeing as the man was incapable of much movement on his own. Pouring additional lube into a palm, he reapplied some to the boy’s open hole, his fingertips sliding in with ease. “Mm, look at that. The way your body’s begging for me to keep going. Your arse is so welcoming. You were just _made_ for me to take you.”

         Then he was plunging back in and pumping away. After a glance at the time, Hux decided to check in with the panting man kneeling before him. “What’s your status, Pet?”

         “F-fine, sir. Just feeling a little… worn.” An insistent ache was building along with his climax. Left to his own devices, he wasn’t sure if he’d choose to finish or keep going. Luckily it wasn’t his decision to make.

         “Not too much longer, now.” Ten more minutes, but the ensign didn’t need to know the specifics. Soon Hux had his boy moaning freely and attempting to writhe within his restraints. The general was well aware that he was hitting Meridan’s prostate; he was slamming against it as a reward for making it this far without complaint. At this point, he suspected the man wasn’t going to complain at all.

         “Sir… I’m getting close.” This was just a warning—he knew the rules, knew Hux wouldn’t grant permission yet. His own climax would come as payment for Hux’s.

         So the redhead had been doing his job properly. He adjusted his angle and grabbed the back of Meridan’s collar, causing a short choke. “Don’t you dare come before me, boy.” He squeezed the tip of his pet’s dick a little too firmly, knowing it would help in delaying the inevitable.

         “No, sir. I’ll be good, sir.” Hux’s stern tone helped him focus. For just a little longer, he could hold out. It would be that much sweeter for the lengthy delay.

         “See that you do and I will reward you appropriately.”

         The alarm beeped and Meridan couldn’t help but sigh and slouch in relief. But Hux didn’t stop then—if anything, his thrusts intensified. He hooked a finger through the ring at the back of Meridan’s collar and grabbed an asscheek with his other hand, and his movements went from intense to wild. “Fuck, boy. About to come in your arse. Fill it up with this load. You’ve been so… fucking… _good_ for me… _Mer_.”

         On the moaning of his nickname, Meridan felt the unmistakable burst of intense wet heat that slowly expanded inside him. Hux continued to sigh as he finished with a few full-body shudders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Less light (moderate?) bondage  
> -Mild sensory deprivation  
> -Extended edging  
> -Brief allusion to past substance use


	15. Ordinary

(In-line note: Please check out the Notes for the Warnings on this chapter. They are significant.)

 

“Just lie still.”

         Meridan stretched out on the mattress and stared expectantly up at Hux. The general straddled him lithely and slowly ran his palms down the man’s chest. Pausing at the nipples for a few brief tweaks, his fingers simply meandered around his body. Eventually the redhead leaned down for a deep kiss. It was intense but lacked any trace of violence or even force. Only passion remained.

         When their lips parted with a quiet smack, Meridan gave Hux a puzzled look. “What are you doing, sir?” The energy between them was different this evening.

         “Taking it easy. I want to play at ordinary lovers tonight. See what it’s like.” Did Hux even remember how it went? The words to this tune? Hopefully they would come to him, like a drowned memory dredged up to the riverbank.

         The younger man frowned slightly, but ended up nodding. Hux reached to the bedside table for the lube and smiled enigmatically while he warmed it in his hands. The fingers that eventually touched him explored gently, gradually opening him as though that process itself gave the general immense satisfaction. As though he’d never dream of taking Meridan unprepared (the way he had just last night).

         Hux sighed quietly. “This is so hot, watching you respond to my touch.”

         Meridan was unnerved by General A. D. Hux using the word _hot_ to describe something in a non-thermal way. He reacted by attempting to distract the man from saying pleasant things. “Please, sir—”

         “No standing on formality tonight, Meridan. Ordinary people, remember.” He leaned down for another kiss, this one very short.

         “Please, Declan…” Meridan had never called Hux that during sex, only afterward. The word tasted strange in his mouth.

         “You want me inside you now?”

         Meridan exhaled in relief. “Yes.”

         Hux arranged a pillow under Meridan’s lower back and folded his knees up. Slicking himself, he spoke softly. “You’re so damn beautiful, Meridan. Especially like this, lying on my bed, waiting for me.” He positioned himself and glided in achingly slowly. Holding himself above his partner with palms flat on the bed, he stared into the dark brown eyes looking up at him. “You feel so good. So warm, so giving.” He pressed inside—not with a thrusting or ramming motion, something far more gentle than that. “I’m very lucky. More so than I deserve.”

         Meridan’s heartrate skyrocketed, thudding against his ribcage in a nauseating rhythm, a sickening echo of the slow dance of Hux’s hips. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Not what he was used to, not what he’d come to expect and desire. Hux didn’t owe him compliments simply for existing. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck and his forehead, tiny pinpricks of panic as he began struggling to breathe.

         Unfortunately, Hux read this as excitement. “Tonight I’m going to make love to you. Slow and sweet, just the way _you_ deserve.”

          _No. No. I don’t deserve. Don’t use that word, not even as part of a common phrase—No._

         Meridan gasped as first his mind, followed in short order by his entire body, seized up in rejection. Sweaty hands slipped over the general’s shoulders in a panicky attempt to push him off. “Jawas!” he shouted hoarsely. There’d been no plan to use that word; Meridan had just reached for the only weapon he had left.

         Shock widened and filled Hux’s eyes, but he moved to withdraw immediately. Meridan sat up and scrambled for a blanket to wrap around himself since he felt particularly raw and exposed. Blankly, he stared at the wall and hyperventilated. He didn’t even notice when Hux left the room; he only realized it must have happened when the general was handing him a glass of cold water. “Thanks,” he responded automatically in a cracked voice as he accepted the gift on offer.

         “I’m going to take a shower. In the meantime, please drink that and keep breathing.”

 

 

As the water rained down on him, Hux replayed the scene in his head and attempted to put his finger on precisely what had gone awry.

         Meridan might crave power exchange and get off on punishment, but that didn’t mean he always deserved it. Surely every now and then the two of them could have sex like normal—correction, _typical_ —people. Kisses instead of bruises. Compliments in the place of orders.

         Instead Meridan had used the safeword on him.

         Hux worked the shampoo through his hair much more vigorously than necessary.

         The fucking safeword. There had only had two previous incidents where a partner employed one with him. The first had come during vigorous knife-play (there’d been a great deal of blood; Hux had gotten drunk with power). The second occurred while he’d been caning a man in a blindfold (he’d later learned that said man had spent weeks as a hostage during some particularly heated territory negotiations; it had hit a deep nerve).

         To be perfectly honest, both times he’d known he was going too far—he’d just decided to continue anyway, to press his luck. Because he’d been enjoying himself. Thinking back on his hobbies, he was rather surprised he hadn’t heard more safewords over the years. Luck and good choice of partners, he supposed. But tonight had bloody well blindsided him. He’d been kind, and _that_ very thing had pushed Meridan over the edge of his limits, possibly driven him to a panic attack. Why?

         Damaged self-worth? Fear of something beyond physical intimacy? The transitory nature of human kindness? _Or he simply doesn’t want that sort of thing from me, specifically._

         Of course he shouldn’t spend his time guessing in the shower. He ought to give up attempting to wash off the guilt, return to the bedroom, and talk. Never one to shirk duty, that was precisely what he did.

         “Are you ready to talk about this?” he asked as he stood in the doorway, rubbing a corner of the towel behind his ears. He was trying to think of the proper way to comfort Meridan. If gentleness had brought on panic, it probably wasn’t a good idea to try to calm him down with physical contact. So he just watched the ensign’s reaction.

         The young man on the bed shrugged wearily. “I suppose,” he muttered into his glass.

         “I’m sorry it came to that. But we need to review what happened, to prevent it from recurring.”

         Meridan didn’t want an apology. He’d only wanted what he had come here expecting, the things he’d become accustomed to look forward to. Soft kisses and kind words didn’t come into the picture, certainly not until he’d been used to Hux’s satisfaction. That was when the general could bring him down sweetly.

         The redhead sat beside him, giving him a good thirty centimeters between them. Hands in his lap, he joined Meridan in looking at the wall. “Where did it go wrong?”

         A deep sigh proceeded an answering question. “Why didn’t you want to control me?”

         “When?”

         “Any time. No biting, no choking, no restraints. Why?” He sounded confused.

         “I said I’d like to go vanilla tonight.”

         “I suppose that was where it went off-track, then.” Why pretend they had something ordinary when it would just amount to boring roleplay? Meridan couldn’t imagine anything duller than ordinary.

         “You haven’t always had sex the way we do,” the redhead pointed out.

         “No. But _we_ always do.”

         Hux kept himself from rolling his eyes; it was as though Meridan were purposefully misunderstanding him, just to be difficult. But it forced him to be absolutely clear, so perhaps it was beneficial. “I assume you enjoyed sex before you met me. Every now and then I like typical activities. To change things up a little. I’d hate to bore you.” And because he’d wanted to show that he could, in fact, be gentle. During as well as after. Hux always chose his words carefully—he truly wanted to know what making love to Meridan would feel like. To see if it was satisfying. After all these years of power play and sexualized violence, _lovemaking_ sounded adventurous. Dangerous, even, since there was the unspoken threat that it could develop into… more. He watched the ensign’s face as the man struggled to formulate a response, and gave him some wording options. “Do you not want that sort of thing from me? Or was it just because I didn’t give you enough warning?”

         Meridan gulped down the last of his water. “It… felt like a relationship.” _Like playing at something we don’t have_. Hux had made it clear that they weren’t dating, and he was fine with that, really. More than fine. It made everything simpler.

         “And that’s a problem?”

         The ensign ran his hands through his hair roughly, tugging at it as he went, trying to think of a way to satisfactorily express the issue without revealing too many compromising details. “Well, what we’ve been doing up to now… _isn’t that_. Besides, I thought _you_ didn’t want it.” Interpreting Hux’s desires seemed far easier than parsing his own right now. “I’ve only had one proper relationship.” Plain statement of fact. “It didn’t end well.” Understatement of a lifetime. If what had happened with Garrit was what being in love entailed, he wanted none of it. _Wash your hands of him and everything you meant together, go off to the Academy, have a career. Steer clear of falling back into that sort of trap._

         “When was that?”

         “Just before I left for the Academy.”

         “Over four years ago,” Hux pointed out.

         Meridan nodded. “You’re saying I should be ready again by now.”

         At this point Hux shook his head emphatically, even though he had been implying exactly that. “No, I’m sorry. It’s been far longer than that for me. I shouldn’t judge. It isn’t my place. Just…” Well, just what did he mean, then? Swallowing back his own fears and pride, he forged ahead blindly. Because it wasn’t fair for Meridan to be the only one who was brutally honest with himself. Perhaps he could show a little vulnerability as well. “I think I’d be willing to give it a try. If you were, that is.”

         “Hux. _Declan_. If I could be with anyone, I’d want it to be you.” Don’t cry, he told himself. _You’ve already shown enough weakness for one night_. A drawn-out sigh, then a shake of the head and, “Oh, fuck it. I’d be an idiot to turn you down. Yes.”

         Hux reached over to put a hand over one of Meridan’s. Although he reckoned that this was the point where ordinary people would kiss, he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He was already exhausted from what little emotion he’d just shown. “Let’s see if we can’t figure this out.”

 

 

A comprehensive history of the fall of the Old Republic was probably not the best bedtime reading material for General Hux. Extensively researched and copiously footnoted, it would certainly strike the average reader as dull and overly academic. Instead it acted like a stimulant on the political part of Hux’s mind. Following the threads of various topics, prying them apart, analyzing the pieces—this was the sort of thing he longed to spend his time doing. At the moment he was focusing on various admirable but naïve attempts at forming a cohesive whole out of such a vast and diverse collection of cultures, geographies, and economies. It was a doomed mess. It was enthralling.

         He paused to adjust the pillow behind his back and found himself lazily watching Meridan sleep. Thoughts of trade deficits and retributive tariffs cast aside, he wondered if the man sharing his bed was now his boyfriend. On a purely intellectual level, Hux felt too mature and too responsible to have a _boyfriend_. But viscerally he felt a small frisson of delight. Of… well, giddiness, to be perfectly honest.

         Also, he was pleased to have skipped over the dating stage entirely. They’d gone from colleagues to bedmates to partners, and the general was happy with that unorthodox progression. Chalking his excitement up to inexperience, he was reminded of Meridan’s statements on the topic of his own past.

          _One real relationship. It didn’t end well._

         What the hell did that actually mean? Although far from an expert on the matter, he figured that the vast majority of relationships did, in fact, not end well. That fact that something important hadn’t been well was the very reason they ended, after all. Reflecting on the knowledge that Meridan must have been around eighteen at the time, he reckoned that it had wrapped up with a passionate fight. Broken promises, perhaps with some electronics hurled at the wall for added emphasis. Wounded pride and most likely someone sleeping around. Sexual and emotional betrayal, et cetera et cetera and blah-de-blah. It all sounded awfully predictable and tiresome.

         Hux wondered how much shouting this would end with, and hoped it would take some time to reach that point. He didn’t permit himself to imagine that such a moment wouldn’t eventually come.

Meridan had fallen asleep quickly and fully with Hux’s arm curled around his waist. But considering their bedtime conversation, it wasn’t surprising what he eventually dreamed about.

         A knock on the door unanswered, the code punched in. Entering the apartment.

         “You weren’t at graduation,” Mer called out in the front hallway as he pulled off his jacket. “What happened?”

         Silence. Stepping into the bedroom and _seeing._ Unable to process all the details yet still comprehending the gist all too clearly. Everything fit together perfectly and horribly.

         And when he finally turned from the scene on the bed, he found it there on the desk. The note was short, but utterly sufficient.

> _M— i am so tired. i love you but i hate everything else. and you’re leaving. i can’t stay. i can’t be alone. i can’t. there’s nothing left after you. all apologies, my love. ~garrit_

         Meridan surfaced from his nightmare replay and screamed a single word. It was _Garrit_.

         “Lights at ten percent,” Hux ordered into the darkness, startled out of his own sleep. He looked over to see his lover bent over the edge of the bed, scarred back coated in sweat.

         “Meridan?” he asked quietly in the low light. Checking the bedside chrono, he saw it was only 0217. Their first night as a couple wasn’t going particularly smoothly.

         The other man’s shoulders began to heave. “I can’t keep it together. Hux…” And then the sobs came, great sucking sounds that wracked his ribcage. “I’m falling to fucking pieces here.” It certainly sounded like it.

         “Shh. Breathe.” Hux sat up, folded down the covers, and moved behind Meridan, placing both cool hands on his shaking shoulders. “Just breathe.”

         “Can’t. Can’t think.” He was choking on his thoughts, whatever they were. “Can’t stay. Can’t be alone. And I left him alone.”

         Hux didn’t understand, so he just wrapped his arms around Meridan and began to rock him gently. But the ensign broke out of his hold and turned around. His eyes were wide, haunted. Hux felt his stomach clench with cold dread—he didn’t know how to handle this. It fell well beyond his scope; it looked like a traumatic flashback. He’d witnessed them before with other soldiers, but recognition alone wasn’t proper training. Racking his brain for something that at least wouldn’t _hurt_ , he said in what was hopefully a reassuring voice, “Tell me what’s going on.”

         “No! I fucking can’t!” Meridan howled inconsolably, covering his face in his hands.

         “Where are you, Meridan?”

         “ _I left him alone!_ ”

         The act of hiding his face infuriated Hux. “Look at me. Damnit, Ensign!” Perhaps stern formality would break through the wall between them. He shook the man by the shoulders firmly enough to demand his attention.

         Meridan’s hands dropped to his lap but still he refused to look up. And that was when Hux snapped. He’d backhanded the younger man before realizing his arm was even in motion. Meridan finally looked him in the face, eyes still wide and startled but no longer full of tears or terror.

         Hux gasped in horror at what he’d done. Their first night, he was already fucking things up beyond repair. “Fuck! Meridan, I’m so sorry. I’ll never—”

         The ensign responded in a voice barely above a whisper. “Do it again.”

         “I swear. Never.”

         Meridan spoke more clearly this time, enunciating every word carefully. “No, you don’t understand. _Do it again_. Please.”

         Hux stared into his eyes, saw the deadly serious calm in them. “What?”

         “It helped. Hit me again. _Please, sir_.”

         The general continued to stare at him, but he breathed in deeply and slowly raised his hand. This time, when his palm struck Meridan’s face, the ensign sighed in relief at the impact. Hux felt a lurch of mixed lust and self-disgust in his gut, and struck out again. _Gods, how does this feel so right?_ He’d hurt plenty of men like this before, but only when he’d intended to. These things hadn’t always been properly negotiated, but Hux had consistently clung fast to the notion that intent mattered. Now he’d broken the one rule they had, his promise to avoid anything that bordered on what Colonel Noro had done. Hitting Meridan in anger had certainly crossed that line. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, feeling the pinprick burn of tears in his own eyes. _I’m sorry for what I am. I’m not what you need._

         “Hux, thank you,” Meridan breathed, smiling like he’d been kissed sweetly. “Don’t stop, sir.”

         That was all it took to stem the tide of his doubts for the time being at least. In a moment, Hux had pulled Meridan off the bed and pinned him to the floor as he continued to slap him. Pausing, he leaned down to bite Meridan’s lower lip until it began to bleed, then sucked at it for a brief moment. Remembering what had set this off, he returned to the questions. “What happened? Meridan, what the fuck _happened_?”

         Meridan surfaced from his own pleasure for a moment to tongue his bloodied lip and frown in confusion. “What? When?”

         “You must have had a nightmare. When you woke up, you shouted a name. His name.”

         Tears sprung back into Meridan’s eyes and he shook his head disconsolately. “No, please don’t make me explain.”

         Hux’s hand was around Meridan’s throat, tight and threatening to close tighter still. They were at the edge of something important, and Hux didn’t think they should postpone it any longer. “You _will_ tell me. Because I need to know, in order to deal with this.” He squeezed harder. “Why did you dream about Garrit?”

         Meridan sobbed once, averted Hux’s gaze, and gave in. There was no energy in reserve to be able to fight. “Because he’s dead.”

         In surprise, Hux relaxed his grip instantly. “What?” Why hadn’t Meridan mentioned this earlier? Instead he’d let Hux think that his first relationship had ended with a typical breakup. The sort of thing that left both parties with very ordinary hurt feelings. Not this. It was too familiar.

         “He killed himself, Hux. With my pistol. A week before I left for the Academy, he stole my fucking blaster and shot himself in the head. I was the one who found him.” The scene returned in brute force. The smell of cordite, flesh singed at the temple. Face gray, drained of all color save the back-splatter of blood. Two clammy fingers still curled lightly around the trigger. Empty, glassy eyes—the ones he’d previously looked into to imagine a future.

         “Oh, Meridan. Shit.” And now Hux was leaning over him, raining kisses on his face and neck, cupping his cheek in the palm of the hand that had just stopped choking him. “Why?”

         “Because of me. Because I loved him, because I was leaving. Because I made him happy and it felt all wrong and that made us miserable. I loved him and he loved me and he _died_ for it, Hux. Everything I love ends up broken.” He sobbed and his entire body shook under the general’s. “Because I’m broken.”

         Hux ran his fingers lightly through Meridan’s hair but didn’t contradict him. “We’re all broken, my sweet boy.” He kissed the ensign’s cheek and helped the man up into a sitting position so he could hold him properly. “But somehow we keep on going.”

         “Why?”

         “I have no fucking idea, Mer. Maybe because we can’t not.”

         The ensign was trembling, his mind still stuck halfway in the past. “Please,” he begged, looking into the general’s eyes, searching for reassurance. “Don’t let me get attached like that. I can’t cope a second time.”

         “Shh, Meridan. Hush now. I’ve got you. You’ll never have to go through that again.” This really wasn’t something he could promise, but he did anyway, still carding his fingertips in Meridan’s sweaty curls. “And you’re not a fool. You won’t fall in love with me.” _Because unlike you, I’m fundamentally unlovable._ “So you’re safe now.” _For now at least._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY WARNINGS, BATMAN!  
> \- Use of the safeword  
> \- Possible PTSD nightmare & flashback  
> \- Non-negotiated act of domestic violence  
> \- Past suicide  
> \- Also some fluff, because our antiheroes are moving towards something resembling an actual relationship


	16. Comparing Notes & Making Observations

After Meridan left early the next morning so he could head to the bridge from his own room, Hux stood in the center of his sitting room and reflected on what he’d learned.

         So Meridan had lost his first love, too. Yet somehow _he_ hadn’t turned into a sadist; his response hadn’t been to methodically kill four people.

          _Stop thinking like this. You were already headed down that path; Seachnall’s murder just catalyzed it. Besides, you killed his murderers._

         Not in a fit of blind rage, either. Instead he’d been completely rational about it. And he still couldn’t decide if it was better that way, or worse. He’d planned and strategized, he’d been calm. He had waited for the perfect opportunities.

          And he’d enjoyed it. Enormously. (That was most likely an issue as well. Hux admitted that but still didn’t care.)

         Meridan, on the other hand, had grieved. He’d cracked, and cried, and he’d managed to pull the pieces of himself back together enough to get through the Academy and earn top marks. He’d slept with other people.

          _As_ _did I,_ his inner voice countered.

          _And you were so very healthy about it. What did you get your total up to by graduation? Forty-seven?_ More than half his total count had been racked up before the age Meridan was now.

         How many of their names had he known? He tallied these together and found there had only been nine. One of those was Birtrem, into whose back he’d cut his last name before learning the other boy’s. A second was Palo. The straight boy he’d seduced with drugs and a slow escalation that had led to him fucking the young man in chains against the wall—as punishment for sleeping with a girl.

         Oh, yes. He’d been a real role model.

         With that thought, Hux put his hair in order and left for his shift.

 

Back in his quarters, Meridan headed straight for the fresher. He could smell Hux on him and found it distracting. Although it was far from unpleasant, he needed a few moments alone to think.

         What the hell was he doing? Becoming sexually involved with the general was idiotic enough, but now he was really going off the deep end.

         Meridan wasn’t sure what a relationship with Hux would look like. It certainly wouldn’t be simple. On the other hand, he didn’t want things to be easy. He craved complexity in everything he did; it gave him an opportunity to rise to the challenge again and again. And when things fell quiet, his mind wasted no time making him uncomfortable. He wasn’t accustomed to things going his way, so when they did, he quickly became apprehensive.

         — _I don’t deserve this._

_—Something’s about to go wrong._

         The rising panic of good luck. Biting it back until he couldn’t hold it off any longer.

         This was one way in which Hux helped him. Meridan was still grateful that the general wanted to fuck him, much less start some sort of relationship. The manner in which Hux began their nights together—with self-composure and orders delivered in a cool voice—helped Meridan keep his mind still. And then later, when the general had him tied down with a hand wrapped tightly around his throat, it grounded him.

         He didn’t want an entire evening of kisses and deep soulful staring into one another’s eyes. Just the thought of hand-holding put him on edge. Simply put, he didn’t think he could handle a standard relationship again, and Hux would give him anything but. The closest they’d come to traditional was when they discussed tactics over dinner, or training modules while sharing a brandy.

         Meridan shoved his feet into his boots and left his room to start the day.

 

At 1530 that day cycle, Kylo Ren stood on the bridge by his co-commander. They stared out the port in silence.

         Without trying, without even realizing he was doing it, the Force-user received images from the general’s mind. Just brief flashes. A gloved hand clenched tight around a bare throat. A man desperate for breath. Sweat on bare skin. Low stiffled moans.

         Who was that? Some old victim, perhaps during an interrogation? But why was Hux thinking of this now?

         The view expanded. The victim was shirtless, sweating lightly, biting down on his lower lip. And the feelings radiating from Hux weren’t murderous rage like Ren had thought at first.

         Lust. Possessiveness. Exhilaration.

          _Oh._ The knight dipped in further to peruse other recent images.

         The same man on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back. Another hand pulling on the chain that linked the cuffs together, using it as a handle, pulling the man backwards onto his hard cock—

         Hux was fucking somebody new. And he was thinking about the man frequently enough for Ren to scrape these vivid memories from the surface without the general suspecting the intrusion.

         “Can I help you, Lord Ren? Is your helmet malfunctioning?”

         That was when the knight realized his breaths were coming shallow and fast. This was an unfortunate downside to being an empath—other people’s emotions rubbed off on him easily, often without him realizing it until the effects had settled in. Now he was painfully aroused, and feeling guilty about it, because it amounted to mental voyeurism. “No, General. I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment.”

         “Try not to destroy anything on your way off the bridge, My Lord.”

         Ren recognized this as a dismissal, and in his current state he decided to take it. He needed to meditate. At least that’s what he told himself as he swept into his quarters. But once he arrived and removed his mask and settled onto the floor, he felt his trousers rub roughly against his crotch and admitted he was probably going to have to take care of this raging hard-on first.

         How wrong would it be to pull a more complete memory from the general and use it to pleasure himself? He shrugged mentally. As long as Hux had no idea. No harm, no foul, right? So he’d just have to use whatever Hux had ready in the forefront of his mind. He reached out.

         The knight felt it in the pit of his stomach before the image arrived. _Oh, Force. It’s a blowjob._ He felt the suction clamp around him and his hands flew to his buckle before he risked climaxing in his pants like a desperate teenager. Because this was more skilled than anything he’d personally received. Even secondhand through a memory, it was overwhelming. Cock thrusting down a young man’s throat, hearing him gulp, feeling the enthusiastic tongue rub against the underside of him. His gloved hands— _Hux’s hands_ , he reminded himself—holding the man by the hair, preventing escape. He was still in full uniform, but the other officer was completely nude. Exposed and vulnerable, ready for the taking. _So young and eager_ , he thought approvingly, but they were Hux’s thoughts.

         He recognized Hux’s office, saw the man under the desk, and reveled in the power trip in play here. The man had given the general some unwelcome news, and he’d taken out his frustration rather unprofessionally. Ren felt Hux’s reticence about this, but pushed it aside. Second thoughts weren’t arousing. Besides, he had enough of them himself.

         When Kylo Ren finally touched himself, stars burst behind his eyelids as the additional stimulation pushed him over the edge. He thrust into his grip twice before spurting out onto his fist. _Fucking hells._

          _Why does Hux get all the luck? That grumpy, tightly wound control freak gets some pretty officer with curly hair to suck him off like a professional. And here I am, jerking off to the memory of a blowjob he received in his office._

          Not for the first time, he wondered if his empathic abilities had fueled his pansexuality, or at least his awareness of it. The way he could feel other people’s pleasure, taste their arousal… It certainly didn’t hurt. He’d been aware of the satisfaction to be found in giving good head and known the ecstasy of a dick rubbing against his prostate before he’d ever felt it himself. If a human he knew could get off on something, so could he. Sure, his abilities granted him the potential to wield great power, but they also often turned him into a hot mess.

          Inhibitions dissolved with his climax, he returned his attention to Hux. Gathering intelligence, he told himself.

 

Late that night, Kylo Ren was jolted out of his meditation by an explosive mixture of fear, anger, and wounded pride.

          _Hux?_ he wondered.

         No; although the general often projected similar feelings, his were on a continuous low simmer. This particular burst was a full boil, strong and immediate. Ren could taste it in his mouth. Someone on board was having quite the nightmare. He reached out cautiously for the trail, sensing, dabbling. And there—there it was. He plunged headlong into the dream.

          _“Sir…” a boy is pleading. A shirtless teenager, cowering on the floor of a nice house filled with nice things. “Please stop,” he begs. Ren can’t see his face, doesn’t recognize the voice. Brown hair in curls; not Hux._

_“How many times?” A cold voice growls, then brings his belt down hard and fast. He isn’t giving the kid much opportunity to think of an answer._

_“What?” the boy asks as he counts in his head. Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine. His back is on fire. He wonders when he’ll start bleeding, if he hasn’t already._

_“Do I need to spell it out for you? How many times have you been fucked?”_

_Thirty lashes. The boy whimpers. “Why do you care?” Thirty-one._

_“I need to know how much to correct you for. I think one hundred lashes per encounter should do.” The man is the boy’s father, furious and old fashioned. But the boy—his anger exists on another level entirely. It leaves a familiar taste in Ren’s mouth, acrid and intoxicating. “I know your friend must have had you already. How many others have degraded you like that?”_

_Ren knows immediately—No others. The friend has fucked the boy once; the boy has fucked him back a few times. That is all for now. He also knows that “fucking” isn’t really the right word for what they’ve done and will continue to do. And of course there are no others; they’re in love, that first illogical, stupidly overwhelming love. He catches glimpses of the boys together, curled up on a couch, brushing away each other’s tears, using kisses as tokens of consolation. But this boy isn’t answering his father; instead he’s busy drawing his anger into a fine point. He has stopped counting the lashes; they seem to no longer register. Finally, when he speaks, his words are calm and measured. “More than you can count, old man. Your belt will fall to pieces before you’re done with me. And I will remain.”_

_Lord Ren is filled with an unanticipated sense of pride in the boy. He is crying but unbeaten, overpowered but not overwhelmed. If he were Force-sensitive, he would make an excellent recruit for the Knights of Ren. Lustful, ambitious, furious. Hurt—deeply cracked but unbroken. Someone powerful did their best to destroy him, but he’s refused to curl up and die. Maybe it’s inner strength, maybe it’s stubbornness or spite. It doesn’t matter; he remains._

_In the dream something has shifted. The boy stands up, his bare and bloodied back suddenly covered with a First Order uniform. He faces his father, taller now than the old man. His insignia marks him as a lieutenant. The young man smiles coldly. “I may be a whore, Father, but now I’m a stronger man than you.” He draws his_ _sidearm, flicks off the safety, and fires point-blank into his father’s face._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Throwing Kylo Ren into the mix.


	17. Attractive Nuissance

Meridan ran a hand through Hux’s hair, ruffling it as he went. Before he could really satisfy his urge to tousle Hux up properly, the general caught him by the wrist, and the surprised ensign met his gaze.

         There was cold murder in the redhead’s eyes. “I instructed you not to touch my hair. And you agreed.”

         Meridan attempted to shrink back, but Hux still had his wrist in a fast grip.

         “Can you not follow simple orders, or do you wish to be disciplined?”

         Not one minute ago, Meridan would have quickly admitted to the latter, but he was suddenly no longer certain. “I’m… I’m sorry,” he stuttered in response. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on prickly end and he felt unsure of everything he’d ever known. “I just wanted to…” He gave up on explaining aloud, but he continued to argue in his mind. It wasn’t fair—Hux touched _his_ hair all the time, surely he understood the temptation, especially once it was forbidden. The general’s hair was a fucking attractive nuisance. Like a private and pristine swimming pool across the street from a reform school.

         “So it was willful disobedience, then.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Get on the bed, flat on your stomach, hands behind your back.”

         The ensign knew better than to ask what Hux was intending; instead he silently obeyed. Hux stood by the mattress and yanked Meridan’s trousers down past his ankles. “And to think I was planning on going easy on you this evening.” He disappeared for a moment, returning with a zip tie to cinch around Meridan’s wrists. Looming above the young man’s prone form, he brought a flat palm down against his vulnerable bare ass. The young man yelped and his legs twitched involuntarily.

         “Tell me you don’t deserve this,” Hux dared, holding his hand still, hovering in the air as he awaited a response.

         “No, sir. I do.”

          Another smack. “Explain why.”

         “Because I disobeyed you, sir.”

         “And why would you do a foolish thing like that?”

         “I… I wanted to touch your hair. It’s very handsome. And I thought I wanted the attention.”

         “Are you enjoying it now?”

         He wasn’t sure how to answer. It was difficult to focus on abstract concepts at the moment, but after a few moments he settled in on what felt like an honest response. “Not particularly, sir.”

         “In that case, you should remember this.” He continued slapping the defenseless young man on his bed, quickly becoming engrossed in the act of corrective violence. By the time he was satisfied, Meridan’s buttocks were bright red with palm-prints, the ensign was whimpering pitifully, and Hux’s erection was straining against his pants. “Sit up, boy. Have you learned your lesson?”

         “Yes, sir,” Meridan mumbled, sounding miserable. Hux took him by the hair and lead him down to the floor.

         “You’ll be good now?” The ensign gave a slight nod as he watched the redhead open his flies. “Then take care of me.” Keeping a hand on the back of Meridan’s head, he pulled the man in. As the warm lips slid down his length, he sighed and returned to the topic at hand. “I don’t know why you felt the need to act out. I’d end up taking control—and my pleasure—either way. Do you like it when I’m particularly unkind? Was touching my hair worth the bruises you’ll have tomorrow?”

         Meridan shook his head, causing the crown of Hux’s dick to rub against the inside of his cheeks. The general gave a quiet moan, then tilted Meridan’s head to one side. He slapped him on the cheek, just where his cock made it jut out. He pulled the man off, then started smacking his face with his wet dick. “So impetuous. You can hardly control yourself. Good thing I’m here to restrain you. Though sometimes I wonder whether you even _want_ to be good.”

         The ensign nodded enthusiastically, parting his lips in an attempt to catch the waving cockhead between them.

         “Do you really desire to please me?”

         “Yes, sir, oh yes,” Meridan gushed.

         “Then choke on me,” Hux commanded a moment before forcing himself all the way down Meridan’s throat. “Don’t even _try_ to back off.” He relaxed his grip to test the man’s obedience, waiting until he could feel his throat involuntarily gulping for the air that wasn’t forthcoming. “Yes,” he hissed. “That’s perfect.” He could easily climax like this, but wasn’t ready for the scene to be over. He released Meridan and surveyed the young man coolly while he panted for air, saliva dripping from his swollen lower lip.

         “Would you like to ride me now that I’m soaking wet?”

         “Yes, sir.”

         “Do you deserve it, boy?”

         A wrinkle creased Meridan’s brow. “No, sir.”

         Hux leaned down and wiped the ensign’s lips with the tip of a gloved thumb. “At least you understand that. You’ve behaved terribly tonight. What other punishment should I mete out, I wonder?” He cocked his head, contemplating his options for further correction. Moving behind Meridan, he opened his knife to cut the tie around his wrists before helping him to his feet. “Back on the bed. Hands and knees with your face towards the wall.”

         Staring at the headboard, Meridan could hear Hux walk into the next room and rummage through a desk drawer. He immediately knew which drawer it was, and tried to remember the full catalogue of items it held.

         “Don’t turn around.” Hux sat on the bed behind him and snapped his left wrist into a chained restraint, then attached the other end to a post at the head of the bed. The right followed suit. Next he heard the jangling of metal and his ankles were being closed into similar cuffs. Except that he couldn’t bring them any closer together.

         Hux had put him in a leg spreader. Originally, Meridan hadn’t a clue what that bar was for, but he’d ventured to do some research on his own. Between Hux and the holonet, he’d learned quite a lot in the past few months.

         The crack of a bottle of lube. Hands pulling his cheeks apart. And then the coolness of a wet… finger? No, it was too wide for that. Hux’s cock? Too cold and firm. Reflexively he clenched up on the realization that the general was about to insert some foreign object into him. “Sir,” he began, not sure how to finish.

         “Sh. It’s smaller than my dick, Ensign. You can easily take it.” The tip eased inside and there was a pause as Meridan got used to the feeling. Then Hux twisted his wrist and the ensign discovered the next section was wider, flared somehow. He moaned at the slight but unexpected stretch. “Have you figured it out, boy?” Hux asked, waiting a beat before continuing. “It’s a dildo. I’m starting with the smallest of my collection.”

         “Starting, sir?” he managed to ask.

         “Oh, yes. We’re not ending here. I want to see how gaping wide I can get you.”

         Meridan wondered where Hux would find the pleasure in this, and guessed it must be in his subjugation. _Power is a strong aphrodisiac._

         “That’s right. I’m going to fuck you open with these.” He pressed the next segment inside and Meridan panted. Then the general sat back and admired his handiwork for a short spell before picking up the largest toy to show his ensign. Meridan groaned at the sight of it. “Yes, it’s quite large. Really more of a test than a toy. But I’ll find room for it. Eventually.”

         Methodically, Hux moved from one object to the next. After forty minutes, he was lubing up the last item. Meridan’s back was covered in sweat and his hard dick was dangling helplessly over the mattress below. “Sir?” he asked plaintively. “Are you going to fuck me?”

         “Not with my body. Not tonight.” With this admission, he began easing in the largest implement. “How does that feel, my pretty boy?”

         The young man wasn’t sure he could explain it properly. His hole ached, but it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation. “I feel… stuffed full.”

         “Mm, I imagine so. I bet your arse has never been stretched this wide.” Slowly, he began thrusting the dildo into Meridan, gradually twisting to work it deeper every few thrusts. “I love playing with my toys,” he observed. “Using one to fuck another.” What he didn’t remark on was how incredibly arousing it was to have Meridan trussed up and at his mercy. Or how his own cock was throbbing to get inside the ensign’s stretched, sore hole and fuck it into oblivion. But he wouldn’t. On top of everything else tonight, he knew it would be too much; it would cause Meridan significantly more pain than pleasure. Instead he sat up on his knees and started wanking himself with his free hand. “Fuck, what a sight. I just love wrecking your pretty arse.”

         Meridan sobbed and moaned all at once. He had enough wherewithal to realize that Hux was now actively getting off on this, and that knowledge sent sparks up his back and between his balls. “Use me as you please, sir.”

         “I will. Mm, so I will.” And then he was sliding the toy out and angling himself between the suspended man’s spread legs. He ran the tip of his dick around the edge of the hole, barely touching, but it was enough to coax his load out. Panting, he spurted just inside the gaping arse in front of him and watched it leak in.

         “Fuck! Sir!” Meridan shouted at the viscous heat seeping into him.

         “You feel that, Pet?” Hux asked unnecessarily. “Fuck, it’s so lovely.”

         “Thank you, sir.”

         Hux took Meridan down, laid the ensign on his back, and jerked him to completion. All the while, he murmured, “Good boy. You took your lesson so well. I forgive you.” The general licked his fingers clean, then let Meridan snuggle in against him while they explored each other’s mouths. It was their first kiss of the evening.

               

The next night Hux was astoundingly gentle. He teased Meridan with his mouth for a good half hour before getting down to business, squeezing and tugging at the ensign’s balls encouragingly while bobbing his head. Meridan just leaned back against the pillows and tried to remember precisely how breathing worked.

         “How are you so good at that?” he asked when the general joined him on the pillows, licking his lips. The compliment was obviously not news to the redhead.

         “Why wouldn’t I be? It’s one of my favorite activities. And anything worth doing…” A. D. Hux was certainly not a man for half-measures; he did things properly or not at all.

         “But you’re so… powerful and controlling.”

         “And how am I not in control when I have you in my mouth, panting desperately at the ceiling?” He straddled Meridan and began to slowly stroke himself, watching the ensign still catching his breath. “Giving pleasure can be just as domineering as taking it. Every act is about context. Realizing that I could in fact top while giving head was one of my happiest moments at the Academy.” He hadn’t had too many of those, especially after… For some reason, being with Meridan continued to remind him of things he had kept buried for fifteen years. Why? Was it the ensign’s youth and the fact that he was fresh out of his own Academy?

          _That must be it. Anything else would be… preposterous. And dangerous._

         Hux forced himself back to the moment and man at hand. “So pretty. All mine.”

         “Yes,” Meridan answered, smiling up at him. “All yours.”


	18. Merit

“Please have a seat, Ensign,” Hux invited, waving Meridan towards the chair in front of his desk.

         Meridan’s eyes narrowed a bit as he attempted to ascertain the likelihood of successfully convincing the general that he needed to receive a blowjob before returning to duty. But Hux distracted him from these unprofessional thoughts by silently sliding a piece of flimsy across the desk. The ensign leaned forward to read it. Official letterhead, stamped from Captain Ledesma’s office.

> _Subj: NORO, MERIDAN EFC_
> 
> _Re: Leadership Acceleration Program_

         His heartbeat skipped once before rushing forward on a surge of adrenaline. Reading the letter carefully to ensure he wasn’t missing something, he discovered it was in fact an official recommendation. Glancing up at Hux in wide-eyed joy, he swallowed dryly. “Sir,” he croaked out. No further words were forthcoming.

         “I received this at the beginning of Besh shift today. It’s gone through all the proper approvals and now only requires mine.”

         “I… General… I’m… floored.”

         Hux nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. Even though it’s merited, you must realize how unusual this is.”

         “Yes, sir. There can’t be more than thirty service-members in the program at a time.”

         “There haven’t even been thirty _total_ since LEAP began during the Empire. In fact, only seventeen so far. Tarkin was the first, although he was already a senior officer at the time, so it was really more of a symbolic honor. But it’s quite a respectable list. Krennic. Veers. Thrawn.”

         “And you, sir.”

         “Yes, and you’re going to join us. Congratulations are in order, Ensign. Although you’re about to receive a promotion to Major. There will be a brief ceremony in a few days’ time.”

 

 

“Congratulations, _Major_ Noro.”

         Now that they were alone in Hux’s quarters, Meridan grinned widely. “Thank you, General.”

         “It’s well deserved. Honestly, if we weren’t involved I would have recommended you for the accelerated track myself.”

         “You mean that.”

         “Of course I do. Why the hell would I lie about it?”

          _To be nice_ , Meridan almost said, before remembering that General Hux did not do things simply to be nice.

         “So. How can we celebrate?” the redhead asked, drawing him close to his chest.

         “I’d like you to hit me again. The way you did that first night.” When it had calmed him down enough to finally open up, to expose the most injured part of himself. Today he’d been overly emotional since well before the ceremony, and he desired the clarity that Hux’s violence could bring.

         In response, Hux cocked his head and considered this request. Was he exacerbating the wounds in Meridan’s psyche? The doubt, the shame, the self-loathing? He knew they were still there; he just wasn’t sure how strong an influence they continued to exert.

         “You’re judging me,” Meridan observed.

         Well, yes. Hux judged everyone, continuously. “I’m concerned.” There was a reason he hadn’t hit Meridan since the night he found out about Garrit. Well, he’d smacked the man’s ass enough to cause days of bruising, but they both knew this was different.

         “It’s not like I’m asking you to belt me.”

         “No…” He didn’t continue, but it was clear that he harbored objections. Still, it didn’t seem quite fair. Meridan didn’t appear to judge Hux harshly, despite all the implications that his interests might have regarding his own psychological wellbeing. If Meridan were using Hux to hurt himself, what did that say about the general?

         This was so much more complicated with the major’s history. His subservience—and probable masochism—hadn’t developed in a vacuum. How deeply was it entwined with his damaged self-worth?

         “I don’t want this to be primarily about punishment.”

         The major shook his head, adding, “Nor do I.”

         “It should revolve around you learning to serve me. And me, in turn, learning to reward you.”

         The man nodded, then frowned. “But will you hit me?”

         “If you merit it, I suppose. I won’t if I suspect you only want it because you want to feel pain.”

         Meridan’s fingers curled into fists for a brief moment. “I don’t parse your motivations. I don’t decide to obey your commands based on whether I feel you issue them expecting me to fail.”

         An objection immediately furrowed Hux’s brow. “I don’t—”

         “The rule about not touching your hair. You _knew_ I would eventually disobey. Which is why you made it.”

          _Oh. Well, yes._ That much was true. “Ah.”

         “You wanted an excuse to be particularly rough with me.”

         Hux looked away and simply said, “Well.”

         “I’m not complaining. It was difficult, and it hurt, but it was worth it.” He sighed tiredly. “I just want you to trust me the same way I trust you.”

         “At the risk of sounding repetitive, I’m afraid of harming you.”

         “You don’t sound repetitive. You sound patronizing. As though you somehow necessarily know what’s best for me.”

         “That’s probably an unavoidable aspect of our whole dynamic.”

         “Please, Declan. Not right now. I need you to treat me like an adult for a moment.” _Like the partner you say I am._ “Just for the duration of this conversation.”

         Hux ran a hand through his hair, leaving it slightly disheveled. “I… I’m not sure I know how to do that.” Too much time in authority. He’d become so accustomed to power he couldn’t recall exactly how plain conversations used to work.

         “If I tell you I can handle something, you have to be able to take me at my word. Otherwise, what are my words worth? If you believe my safeword, why don’t you believe my _Yes_?”

         “It isn’t that I don’t believe you. I trust that you mean it. I’m just afraid of what that entails.”

         “You’re concerned that I’m so accustomed to abuse, that I can’t imagine a relationship without it.” Meridan had wondered this himself, but recently decided that it wasn’t the case.

         “Well, not quite that dramatically. I’m concerned that you want to use me to injure yourself.”

         Meridan tried to sum up what he suspected Hux was saying. “Because it’s what I’m used to. It’s what I think I deserve.”

         “Isn’t it?”

         “No. I want you to startle me into paying attention to what matters. The things we do. Pleasing you. Being rewarded for it. Valued for my abilities, my service.”

         “You know you are.”

         “I need to feel it. I need to believe that you’re willing to hurt me when that’s what I need from you.”

         “And you need it tonight.”

         “Yes, sir.” He needed grounding after all the good things that had happened recently. “Please, General Hux.”

         Hux sighed longingly and leaned in to kiss the major’s temple. “How can I deny you when you ask so perfectly?”

 

 

A bright sting burst across his face as Hux’s gloved palm connected with his cheek. Looking up with doting eyes, Meridan murmured, “Thank you, General.”

         The general used his other hand to pet the man’s hair. “Such a pretty boy. And I can do anything I want with you.”

         Meridan lowered his gaze demurely. “Yes, sir.”

         “Anything at all, and you want me to hurt you.”

         A nod but still no eye contact. “Yes, General.”

         Another slap as Hux held his head still by his curls, then a third. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

         Meridan attempted to nod, but found it impossible. “I’m sorry, sir.”

         “You know what I think we ought to do tonight, boy?”

         “What is that, General?”

         Hux reached down with both hands to abruptly twist Meridan’s nipples, making him gasp. “Fasten some clamps to you here. Have you ever done that?”

         “No, sir.”

         “I believe you’ll enjoy it.” He shrugged. “At least I know _I_ will. And that’s the important thing. So go fetch them from my drawer and bring them here, along with my tablet.”

         Following his orders, Meridan returned to sit by Hux’s feet, holding the requested objects up, one in each hand. The general took them both, set the tablet on his lap, and leaned down to fasten the clamps to Meridan’s nipples. The major bit down on his lower lip and breathed through the pinching ache.

         Taking hold of the chain connecting the clamps, Hux tugged on it once. The explosion of painful heat caused Meridan’s dick to jump wildly in the air as he moaned quietly.

         “Oh, you do like that. You know there’s a word for this, correct?”

         “Yes, sir. Masochism.”

         “You’re very lucky, Pet. Can you guess why?”

         “Because you’re a sadist, sir?”

         A sharper tug followed, making Meridan whimper. “Precisely. Hm. I wonder how I should take you. What do you think, boy?”

         “Any way you care to, General.”

         Hux tapped his lips with an index finger. “Well, while I’m figuring it out, I might as well get some work done.” Meridan’s responding look was rewardingly horrified. “Don’t worry. You can keep my cock warm while I finish a few reports.”

         The major’s mouth fell open wordlessly, and Hux tilted his head and arched a brow, challenging him to speak. When he didn’t argue, the redhead simply stood to remove his trousers, then took a seat before pulling the major between his legs. “Don’t let me lose this hard-on, but don’t try to get me off either.”

         Meridan nodded in understanding.

          “Go ahead, now.” With that, he took up his datapad and began tapping away at the screen.

         Ever since Meridan had first gone down on someone, he’d never received so little feedback for it. But then again, he wasn’t doing much now. Every few minutes he’d gauge that Hux was beginning to lose interest, suckle him back to a moderate level of hardness, and return to sitting with a mouthful. Waiting.

         The third time he worked to reengage the man’s cock, he felt a sudden burst of pain from his nipples. “Ah!” he inadvertently complained.

         “That’s enough. I told you not to try getting me off.”

         He hadn’t meant to; he’d just gotten distracted and fallen into his usual habits. “I’m sorry, sir.”

         “I know you’re not used to this, but please put forth some effort to obey.”

         “Yes, General.” His words were understandably muffled.

         Fingers twisted in his hair, yanking his head back painfully. “And don’t speak with your mouth full, either. I know you’re from the Unknown Regions, but surely you must have some manners.”

         Meridan blinked away the tears in his eyes. He wasn’t insulted, he was simply in pain and uncomfortably ready for more stimulation.

         “There, now. Be good for a little while longer and I’ll reward you properly. Maybe even pop that pretty dick of yours inside my own mouth after I have you.” Letting out a quiet sigh, he added, “And I shall have you.”

         The major whimpered against Hux’s pelvis. The general softly carded his fingertips through Meridan’s curls as he continued to tap out his report. After what felt like hours but was probably only fifteen more minutes, he cleared his throat with finality and set the tablet aside. Looking down, he smiled and patted his lap. “Alright, you’ve convinced me, Pet. Get up here and ride me.”

         As Meridan gratefully rose to his feet and straddled Hux, he wondered what this was going to feel like without lubricant. But then the redhead reached for the greatcoat laid across the top of the couch and removed a packet from an inner pocket.

         “Do you always carry supplies with you, sir?”

         “I do now. Ever since you propositioned me in my office that once.” After explaining this, the general tore the packet open with his teeth and slathered the contents onto his erection. Then he unhooked the leash, replaced it with a finger around the ring at Meridan’s throat, and pulled upwards, indicating that he wanted the major to lift himself into position. As Meridan rose, Hux released him from the clamps and massaged his bruised nipples. As he sunk down, the general leaned forward to lick at them one at a time. Meridan shuddered at the wet lapping against his swollen nubs while Hux filled his ass. Without any real preparation, it was a rather uncomfortable stretch. This wasn’t the sort of thing he’d want to do every day, but the general had teased him for long enough that he just wanted to be fucked as soon as humanly possible.

         Besides, he didn’t mind pain. Not when it came from this man.

         “Thank you for your patience and obedience, boy.”

         “I’m sorry I got carried away, sir.”

         Hux let out a quiet chuckle. “That’s quite alright. Overall, you were very well-behaved. How would you like to be rewarded tonight?”

         “I… I’m not sure, sir,” Meridan mumbled.

         “Come now, be honest.”

         “Your mouth, sir, please.”

         “What about my mouth?” The question was half-teasing, half-coaching.

         The major looked away for a moment as he collected his desires. “I’d like it very much if you were to blow me, sir.”

         “There you go, my boy. Ask for what you want and I’ll be more likely to give it you.”

 

 

With the lights out, Meridan found the courage to ask about something he’d wondered about for several weeks. “Declan? Have you ever been penetrated?”

         Hux’s answer, when it came, was brusque and monosyllabic. “Yes.”

         “Did you not enjoy it?”

         “That isn’t the issue. It’s a bit more complicated.” After all these years, it seemed he still couldn’t admit that he’d relished a cock up his arse on multiple occasions. That it wasn’t just the person he’d been with, that the act itself had been immensely satisfying. That he still got off to the memory of it, but only when he was alone and in a forgiving mood with himself.

         Meridan didn’t think he could grasp the complexity the redhead was referring to, but he wanted to try. “Care to attempt to explain?”

         “It’s… Well. The whole idea of it. Is.” Hux wasn’t sure how to phrase this without inadvertently insulting Meridan. He couldn’t call it shameful or emasculating. And even that would be a shallow answer. “I don’t particularly enjoy being vulnerable.” An oversimplification, but it summed up the strongest of his feelings without delving into his past.

         “Oh. I see. Well, I’d gladly have you. If you told me to, that is.” He had a blurry image of lying back with the redhead riding him, telling him precisely what to do. Maybe he’d even be restrained, hands lashed to the bedposts to keep him from interfering as Hux simply used him for his hard dick, grinding and rocking at his own inexorable pace. “You could still order me around, even…” Meridan gave up on this sentence and stared bleakly at his hands, feeling defeated. “Never mind.”

         “Look, if it were something I wanted, I’d want _you_ to.” Again, not that straightforward. Because Hux was remembering how it felt to really be someone’s partner, and a small yet persistent part of him ached for that reciprocity. But the rest of him said he couldn’t risk it, because he’d learned that everything was temporary. Especially the things one most wanted to last.


	19. "Your Boyfriend is Troubled"

After eavesdropping, Kylo Ren had tracked down the source. He was surprised and amused to find the dreamer sharing General Hux’s bed. He’d known that Hux had been seeing somebody, because the general had been calmer and sex had been closer to the surface of his mind for some time. But Kylo hadn’t been aware that it had gotten to this stage. It seemed the general had finally found a replacement for that sniper. Kylo kicked himself a little—he really should be paying more attention to what happened on the _Finalizer_ , especially when it concerned his co-commander. He shouldn’t just be using the information from Hux’s head to fuel masturbatory fantasies. He hated to admit it, but this was one more piece of supporting evidence that he wasn’t a strategist.

         “Your boyfriend is troubled.”

         Hux shot a glance at Kylo. They were alone in a private officers’ lounge, one of the places they met to hide the fact that they’d more or less become friends. “What was that you just said?”

         “Whatever you call him. That new officer you’re screwing six ways to Sunday.” Kylo knew Hux didn’t appreciate the discussion of his assignations—and that’s why he had brought up the topic explicitly. Friends or not, they still enjoyed goading each other.

         “Need I remind you again how much it infuriates me when you peer into my mind uninvited?” As though he would ever welcome the knight’s intrusion.

         “Not yours, General. _His_.” Kylo stared into the fireplace, mesmerized. “He had a nightmare the other night. He pretty much broadcast it across the entire ship. It was painful to receive.”

         Hux wanted to know, of course he did, but this wasn’t the way he wanted to find out.

         “If he were a Force user, he would make an extraordinary recruit for the Knights. As it is, he will still need to learn to control his anger.”

         “That’s something we’ve been working on.”

         “His background presents… difficulties on that front.”

         Hux knocked back the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on the side table. “Well, haven’t you been busy with your homework.”

         “I only know what he showed me.” Kylo turned towards Hux. “You know about the abuse.”

         “If you’d ever seen his back, you’d have figured it out without any need for magic tricks.” Hux summoned an image in his head and projected clearly it towards Kylo. The Knight of Ren winced. “For four full years, from age fourteen to eighteen, he received regular beatings for his preferences.”

         Kylo Ren hated Ben’s parents, but he was grateful for the physical safety they’d provided. He could grant them that. Ben had never been belted and he’d never been told that his affections (for other boys as well as girls) had been in any way aberrant. Briefly Kylo wondered how much angrier he’d be if that hadn’t been the case. “But he’s still proud. And very intelligent.”

         “This I am aware of. Tell me something I don’t know.”

         “I only mean to say that he should be a valuable asset. Often men ignore the power coursing below an angry surface.” Ren smiled sadly as if to say, _I should know_. “Just… a single piece of advice, General. Try not to break him.”

         “It’s the furthest thing from my mind. I mean to turn him into a leader.”

         “Fantastic. Another Hux. I can hardly deal with the first one.”

         “Go to hell, Lord Ren.”

         “My mind is already hell enough.”

         Hux groaned in frustration. “Please do get over yourself, you dramatic fuck.”

* * *

 

“I was wondering.”

         “Yes.” Hux was wondering when Meridan would stop introducing his thoughts like this.

         “If you would try using one of the banned words on me.”

         An eyebrow arched in response, then, “Oh?”

         “I think it might be different if you’re the one saying it. And… Well, it’s not like you’re going to be belting me at the time.”

         “True. Which one?”

         Meridan furrowed his brow and looked at the floor. He was having trouble saying it; he’d always had trouble discussing what he wanted. One of these days Hux would choke that reticence out of him. Not standard operating procedure for increasing confidence in subordinates or partners, but then again, Meridan wasn’t standard to begin with. And then Kylo Ren wouldn’t be the only one asphyxiating his inferior officers. “Whore.”

         “Going right to the heart of it, hmm, Major?”

         “I suppose so.”

         “Alright. The next time that word comes to mind, I’ll say it. And you will immediately tell me if it’s acceptable or if I need to stop.”

         “Agreed.”

         “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to go over some of these new training sims with you. I want your opinion.”

          _He wants my opinion. This truly is a relationship._ But he’d known that for some time. Otherwise he wouldn’t be alright with the idea of being called a whore.

 

“How’s that?” Hux asked, fingers deeply kneading the ass straddling him.

         Meridan grinned down at him. “How do you think?”

         “Shut up, you cheeky bastard.”

         “Make me,” he challenged, easily falling into the role of petulant brat.

         Hux’s hand closed around his throat and squeezed ruthlessly. He’d left the collar in its case tonight; he wanted Meridan’s neck bare in order to choke him unhindered. “Like me now?”

         Meridan nodded enthusiastically and made a small moan. It was the loudest noise he could manage at the moment, with the general cutting off most of his air supply.

         Hux worked up to it as he kissed Meridan’s jawline. “Oh, you filthy… fucking… _whore_.” Driving the point home with his hips, he watched Meridan shut his eyes and tilt his head back, rocking against Hux, arching his back along with each precise thrust. His lips silently formed the word  _Yes_. “Ride me harder or gods help me, I will make you.” His hand left Meridan’s neck and moved to grip his waist. He was hoping to leave bruises in the pattern of his fingertips. “More?”

         Meridan smiled broadly and whispered his answer. “Yes, sir. Keep calling me names.”

         “This is going to be so satisfying. Finally letting go with you.” Hux sat up and pressed Meridan down into the mattress. He wanted to be able to go as fast and deep as he could. “Mer, you desperate slut. You love this, every single dirty moment of it. Play the cheap whore for me now. Beg me to come in your sweet arse.”

         “Yes, Hux!”

         “You want it harder? Deeper? Faster?”

         “Yes, sir! Please give it to me!”

         “Well then, take it. Take my load, you fucking whore. What are you?” he demanded, eyes alight with power.

         “A whore!”

         “And to whom do you belong?”

         “To you, sir! Only you!”

         “That’s right.” Hux unloaded more loudly than he knew was possible. He looked down to take Meridan in his hand, only to discover that his partner had already come. So he just collapsed across him. As he struggled to regain his breath, he realized something amusing and began to smile. He actually _had_ let go. He hadn’t called Meridan “pathetic” or “disappointing” for one simple reason—it hadn’t occurred to him to do so. He chuckled to himself, burying the sound in the major’s neck. Then he was murmuring to him in gratitude. “Good boy, good boy. Thank you.”

          _I’m growing soft in my old age._

         But he knew that wasn’t true. Meridan was changing him.

* * *

 

_“At least your ‘friend’ had the good sense to kill himself.”_

_Meridan chokes on a sob as he tries to hold it back. He’s showing weakness when he’s aiming for bitter resolve. Sixty-three. Sixty-four. Counting the lashes helps him focus, keeps Garrit’s face submerged in his mind. It’s been three days, and he’s spent them in a fog of shock and self-recrimination._

_“But you’re still alive. You’re bloody worthless.” Sixty-eight._

_“Then go ahead and kill me, you bastard,” the boy spits through gritted teeth. Seventy-two. “Do yourself a favor.” He has a one-way shuttle ticket to the Academy next week; he just has to make it until then. Or not. Either way, this will all be over very soon._

_“No. I’m not giving you the easy way out. You need to either learn how to be a man or take your own life. The choice is yours. You have a week.”_

_Eighty._

_Ninety._

_One hundred. Meridan isn’t going to lose consciousness this time; his fury is keeping him grounded. It’s the only thing he has left in this empty fucking galaxy._

Meridan jolted awake with a start. “One fifty!” he shouted into the quiet of the bedroom.

         Hux was dragged from his sleep as well. “Meridan?” he asked steadily. The younger man was crying silently. “Meridan?” He reached a hand out to lightly stroke his lover’s ruined back. The texture of the young man’s scars had become familiar to him, and touching them no longer immediately filled Hux with a painful mixture of rage and horror. They were just part of Meridan’s body, and only at times like this did the general pause to truly reflect on what they meant.

          _Those scars will never fully heal. Physically or otherwise._

         Meridan turned toward him, that harrowed look back in his eyes. “Please. Make it stop. Make it go quiet again.” He tilted his face down to press his sweaty forehead against the general’s. “You’re the only one who can.”

         And then Hux’s hands were on him, one arm around his waist and the fingers of the other wrapping around his throat. “I do this for you,” he whispered, and squeezed Mer’s windpipe. “Let me take care of you.” The officer struggled against him thoughtlessly, a wild animal flailing in a trap. _Wrong choice of words. Shit._ Hux tried again. “Sh. I’m very sorry about that. Let me calm you down, my sweet boy.” Soon Meridan went limp in his arms, and Hux relaxed his grip, started planting kisses on the back of his neck. “Let me take control. I can handle it. I’ll make sure you’re safe.” He ran his fingers through Mer’s damp hair.

          _It’s not my place to try to fix this,_ he thought for a moment, then shook the idea away. _Of course it is. I wanted him and he gave himself up entirely. Body and mind and troubled past. He trusted me and I must honor it. Unless I want to break him._

_And I don’t. I want to own him. No one wants his possessions broken._

         “I’ve got you now. Let me keep you.”

 

“I’m sorry I keep waking you up.”

         “It isn’t your fault.”

         “But you don’t sleep much to begin with.”

         “I sleep enough.” A solid four hours per day cycle had always been sufficient for him. “And whenever you need me, I want to be awake for it.”

         Meridan gave a wry half-smile. “Thanks.” He knew it couldn’t be easy for Hux to say such things; it wasn’t in the man’s nature.

         “Have you always had these nightmares?”

         “Yes. I mean, ever since… Then. Yes.”

         Hux reached a hand over to brush Meridan’s hair away from his forehead. “I don’t want to sound patronizing. But have you ever seen a therapist about any of this?”

         The major’s eyes darkened and narrowed. “No,” he answered simply.

         “That isn’t a criticism.”

         “Sure.”

         The redhead rolled his eyes. “I mean it. Remember that even I went to therapy.”

         “Only because you wanted to become straight.”

         “True, but I kept going even after it was made clear to me that wasn’t going to happen. If I were to remain homosexual, I wanted to at least come to terms with it.”

         “You think it’ll fix me?”

         “No. But the counsellors we have on staff are experienced with trauma.”

         Meridan sucked his lower lip between his teeth. “Trauma,” he repeated flatly.

         “Yes.” Hux realized they were having a conversation with additional words to the ones spoken.

         — _So you’re saying it was trauma, then._

_—Of course it was. You were beaten for years by someone who was supposed to care for you. Consistently belittled. And you have the shame and nerve damage to show for it. Not to mention discovering your boyfriend’s body after he committed suicide._

         “Fuck,” Meridan admitted. “Would there be a risk of them revoking my psych screening?”

         “Only if you were deemed unfit for duty.” Observing Meridan’s worried expression, Hux had to add immediately, “Which you _aren’t_.”

         “I’m damaged goods, Declan.”

         “Yes, as am I. And most of the personnel onboard.”

         Meridan kept talking, even though he realized he shouldn’t. “Do you think… that I… could have something healthy again?” He swallowed and made a choking nose. “Could I… be loved?”

         “Yes.”

         “I’m not fundamentally unlovable?”

         “Not at all.” Hux didn’t know what he was saying. It had been fifteen years since he’d talked about this sort of thing. He told himself he didn’t remember what it was like.

         “How would you know?”

         “I…” _Shut up. Shut up now._ But he ignored his own directive and continued talking. “I loved once, Meridan. Someone like you, young and beautiful and astoundingly brilliant.”

         Meridan could barely believe he was about to ask this, but he did, in hushed tones. “What happened?”

         “The galaxy happened.”

 

_They don’t let Meridan attend the funeral. He has snuck out and walked to the chapel, but Garrit’s mother bars his entrance. This is the first time he’s seen her without makeup. She looks extraordinarily tired._

_“It’s your fault, you know. You did this to him.” Her lips are thin and pale._

_Meridan nods in despondent agreement. “I know,” he mutters as he walks away, feet dragging in the lush lawn. He doesn’t leave, though. Instead he waits. It’s three hours before the last of the mourners dissipate. He finds the fresh gravesite with ease. Looking at the stone doesn’t help a damn bit. Even though he knows Garrit’s age, he calculates it to the day. Eighteen years and six days. They were together for four years and one hundred fourteen days. Six days ago he’d been riding Garrit—for his birthday._

_He spits on the fresh earth. “You stupid bastard. I would have come back for you. With my commission and posting. It wouldn’t have been perfect, but it could have been all right. I always said I’d take you away. I fucking meant it!” He sinks to the ground._

Now I have no idea what to do.

_But he does, in fact, have a clue. He’s been dwelling on it for at least a few days by now. He makes his way home, somehow managing to place one foot ahead of the other. Thankfully Baromis is away, probably at the retired CO club, avoiding his son and his grief. So Meridan heads for the broom closet, takes the medical kit off the shelf, and carries it up to his room along with a glass of water. He locks the door and sits at his desk._

_He chews and swallows two immediate-release anticoagulant tablets. They crumble bitterly in his mouth. But he reminds himself that the clotting cascade will get in the way of his plans. He washes the pieces down with a gulp of water._

_Meridan peels open a sterile package and looks down at the blade in his hands. It’s surgical grade. It will do. His blaster was confiscated by the local police; his options are limited._

Do it, you pathetic little fag.

_He closes his fingers into a fist and his short nails dig into his palm. He squeezes harder, looking for the veins in the center of his forearm. Tears fall to splatter against his bare skin. He slaps the arm with the palm of his other hand._

_Garrit was the only one who understood. And he’s gone._

_Meridan presses the tip between the bones in his wrist as he prepares to let it dip in before dragging it up to the crook of his elbow. Again, he wishes he had a firearm._

I’m ready, _he tells himself._

          _He presses the blade in and watches the blood well up onto the skin. His hand pauses; he’s mesmerized. But then he sees a flash of his father, banging the door in the next morning. The look of bitter triumph on his face as he discovers Meridan’s cold body slumped over his desk. The relief as he can now move on to focus on marrying Sulli off to a newly commissioned officer and forgetting he ever had a son._

No. I won’t. I won’t let you win. I’ll live just to spite you.

_He gasps and sets the bloody scalpel down. It’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done._

In his sleep, Meridan turned toward Hux and stretched an arm around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus tag for past suicidal ideation/intent.


	20. Object Permanence

One evening after dinner, Meridan casually announced, “It’s been six months.”  
         “Since?”  
         “Since we started fucking.”  
         With a quirk of his lips, Hux asked, “You want flowers, Major?”  
         Meridan threw his head back and laughed at the thought. “No. I want to blow you.”  
         Hux nodded curtly and ordered, “Fetch your collar.” Meridan obeyed, returned, and sunk to his knees. The collar closed around his throat and the lock snapped into place; Meridan lost his name and became Hux’s toy. The general’s fingers were immediately in his hair. “Touch yourself while you suck me off,” he ordered as Meridan made short work of their buckles. As Hux felt the major’s tongue swirl around the head, he wished he could give him pips for fellatio. A distinguished sexual service medal. “You’re far too good at this. I have half a mind to tie you to the bed and fuck your throat raw every morning.” He heard Meridan respond favorably to this suggestion. “Come when I tell you to, boy. Is that understood?” The officer hummed his agreement. “Good. Now take the rest in, all on your own. No hands.” Mer moved in closer, sliding Hux’s cock over his tongue and down. Hux felt Meridan stroke himself in time to his own thrusts. “I will count down from twenty. At naught, you will come.” Hux began the countdown, hoping it would help him hold out as well. Precisely at naught, Meridan moaned around Hux’s cock and he climaxed, spilling through his fingers. And then Hux was sharply twisting his fingers in the major’s hair, pressing fiercely down his throat, coming too, sighing, “Gods, you sweet boy.”  
         Meridan smiled up at him blissfully, thinking he could be satisfied with this one act if they couldn’t do anything else.  
         Hux looked down and smiled coldly. “You’ve made a mess on my boots, Pet.”  
         “I’m sorry, sir.”  
         “Clean it up.”  
         “Yes, sir.” Meridan moved to fetch a towel, but Hux stopped him with a firm grip on his shoulder.  
         “No.”  
         Meridan looked at Hux for guidance, saw his gaze dip meaningfully, and understood. He bent back down, lower this time, and placed his palms on the floor. He brought his lips to the cool leather and licked up his own come. It was still warm.  
         “Good. You will polish them properly before you leave my quarters tomorrow morning.”  
         “Yes, sir.” Meridan kept his face studiously blank, but he felt a thrill rise in his chest. Sure, it was a punishment of sorts, but the general was trusting him with his boots. Part of his precious uniform. It meant far more than flowers.  
         The next morning over breakfast, Hux announced, “I’d like you to move in with me.” Noting Meridan’s shocked expression, he continued by adding, “We’ve been together for half a year, as you pointed out yourself. You spend most nights here anyway. I’d like to make it official.”  
         “But we’ll have to notify the Office of Personnel.”  
         “Yes, and they won’t be particularly happy, but they will cope. At least I’m not your directly commanding officer.”  
         Frowning, Meridan clarified, “No, instead you’re my commanding officer’s commanding officer’s commanding officer.”  
         “Is that a no, Meridan?”  
         “Of course it isn’t, Declan. Can I move my things in this evening?”

 

“Major Noro,” the general called across the bridge.  
         “Yes, Hux?”  
         The stare he received in response was chilling.  _Oh fuck._  He’d used the general’s last name without title or honorific, in front of four other officers and numerous technicians. But several seconds had passed, it was too late to backtrack, and he couldn’t just add a “sir”.  
         The general strode toward him and stopped just within his personal space. He broadcast the slap—there was no reason not to as the gesture was meant to humiliate, not to hurt. The sound rang out across the bridge. Everyone present was staring, holding their breath, perfectly still and silent.  
         Meridan lowered his eyes, feeling the shame well up in his face. “I apologize, sir.”  
         “You are dismissed from the bridge and the remainder of your shift, Major. Return to your quarters and await my instructions.”  
         The instructions came through his comm two hours later.   
          _—My office. Now_.  
         Hands trembling perceptibly, Meridan stood, smoothed down his uniform, and left. He knocked once—he could have pressed the buzzer, but it didn’t seem appropriate. Not nearly contrite enough.  
         The door swished open and, forgetting to breathe, he stepped inside. Hux was at his desk, peering at his datapad. “Sit,” he ordered without looking up, continuing to tap on the screen.  
         Meridan sat in the chair across from the desk. In agonizing silence, he waited for his superior to decide what to with him.  
         Finally, Hux looked up at him, and Meridan wished the general had kept his head down and continued with his work. He had always known Hux could be cold and distant, but the look in his eyes now was truly terrifying. Also strangely beautiful, like a restless ocean with a brutal storm gathering on the horizon. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”  
         The major tried to swallow, but his throat hitched instead. “I’m terribly sorry, sir.”  
         “Not half as sorry as you’re going to be.” With that, Hux kicked back from his desk. He pointed to the floor. “On your hands and knees, Major.” Meridan complied without a word. “Crawl your miserable way over here.” He did, and Hux swiveled in his chair to look down at him. “Look at me, you thoughtless whore.” He swung his arm out and slapped Meridan across the face, then the slap returned to backhand him. This was repeated twice; Meridan grew lightheaded with shame. Hux gripped the major’s chin tightly with one hand and undid his own flies with the other. “Get under the desk. Let’s see if you can at least get this one thing right. Try to make it up to me with your careless mouth.”  
         Desperate to redeem himself, Meridan crouched under the desk and leaned between Hux’s legs. He shouldn’t have been startled at the general’s fierce hardness, but he was—he’d been too busy thinking about how angry Hux must be. He wasn’t sure how someone could be this furious and aroused at the same time, but he took a breath in and closed his lips around Hux. Immediately he felt a hand on the back of his head, shoving him down roughly. He wasn’t prepared for this depth; he spluttered and coughed.  
         “You  _deserve_  to choke on it,” Hux observed calmly, as though he were discussing the weather. And as he began pushing down Meridan’s throat, the major continued to gag. But he didn’t try to back off—that would just make things worse in the long run. His eyes teared up and saliva leaked from the corners of his lips; between thrusts, he desperately sucked air in through his nose. “What were you thinking? Ah, you weren’t, were you? How very thoughtless. You’re lucky I’m allowing you this much. This opportunity to redeem yourself a little. To work off your debt.” Meridan tried to nod—it meant  _Yes, sir, thank you_. Hux smiled indulgently. “At least you understand that.” He was petting the major’s head now, although he was tugging on his hair a little too sharply for it to be a truly kind gesture. “You’ll learn. Now be a good boy and finish me off.” Meridan gave a little moan as Hux bucked into his face, unloading in angry pleasure. As he swallowed and pulled off, he knew he’d behaved well and felt calmer already.  
         Hux reached over to stroke Mer’s cheek. “There. I knew you could be good; you just needed a bit of direction. Now sit on my lap and I’ll show you what forgiveness feels like.”

 

“Hux? Have you ever marked someone?”  
         “I’ve left more marks on your body than I have time to count.” He was currently reviewing a catalogue of bruises, bites, and palm-prints. And becoming a little flushed in the process.  
         “No, I mean permanently.”  
         “Ah, I see. Yes.”  
         “How many men?”  
         Hux’s eyes narrowed as he accessed the count from his memory bank. “Seven.” Now he visualized them all, one by one—his last name on two, the letters  _MINE_  on another, plenty of more or less random (although always tidy) cuts. Whatever he’d felt like at the time.  
         “Care to make it eight?”  
         The general turned to him, his expression utterly serious. “It’s not a decision to be made lightly.”  
         “I know. I’ve been thinking it over for a while.”  
         “Why do you want it?” His tone of voice made it clear that he wouldn’t even consider it without a compelling reason.  
         Meridan breathed in deeply and looked away. He didn’t think he could hold Hux’s gaze and tell this particular truth. “I want a scar that’s different from all the others. One I’ve chosen to carry. That isn’t about my own victimhood.”  
         Hux nodded, impressed with Meridan’s explanation. He was learning to express himself. “I won’t do it if you just want me to damage you.”  
          _Already_ _damaged_ _enough_ , _I_ _know_. “No, it isn’t that. I want you to claim me. I want to be worth claiming, worth owning.”  
         The general pulled him into an embrace. “You are,” he whispered, kissing the pulse point at Meridan’s temple. He repeated the gesture on the other side and his words for good measure. “Oh, you most assuredly are.”

  
The pain was sharp; it cut right through Meridan’s reverie of anticipation. It grounded him, connected him directly to Hux. He gritted his teeth and hissed through them just a little to keep from flinching, and thought about how in some way he’d always be connected to the general—going forward he’d have a physical reminder of the man for the rest of his life.  
          _No matter what happens in the future. Right here, in this moment, I am wanted. And I am happy._  
         Meridan was counting the cuts across his right deltoid, paying close attention. Five. He refused to look until Hux was finished. Six.   
         “Almost done,” Hux breathed, and Meridan heard the bliss in the general’s voice. Could he possibly be as thrilled as I am? He glanced at the redhead, saw the look of excited concentration in his blue eyes. Previously he’d only seen that expression when Hux was focused on a particularly interesting tactical theory or weapons blueprint. Seven. Eight. “There.” Hux held the knife out in front of Meridan’s face with a flourish, presenting the edge coated with a thin line of blood. Then he brought his lips down to the fresh cuts and licked the skin, lapping up the small streams of blood before they could run down his arm. Meridan took the knife blade between his teeth and sucked it clean. The edge cut into his lips and he tasted fresh blood on top of the drying tackiness on the knife. He felt Hux panting against him as the general watched him suck at the knife.  
          _We have problems_ , Meridan thought before grabbing the knife by the handle and laying it aside on the nightstand. Then he rolled on top of the general and kissed him hungrily. His lips were bleeding into Hux’s mouth. The general gasped at the taste.  
         “Fuck me now and fuck me hard,” Meridan begged, looking down. The sight of his own blood painting Hux’s lips bright red was overwhelming, and he was coming undone fast.  
         Hux nodded and flung an arm out to the bedside table, flailing for the lube. Meridan took the opportunity to glance at his own upper arm. It was still lightly leaking blood, but he recognized the marks.  _ADH_. Hux’s initials. He groaned in ecstasy; he’d been claimed. Perhaps this was the feeling regular people had to an offer of marriage.   
         Hux located the bottle and rolled to the top. His eyes were alight.  
         “I’m going to get blood on your sheets,” Meridan warned.  
         “Good. Don’t care. Need you.” Incomplete sentences, acceptance of a preventable mess: Hux was truly gone, and he didn’t care that Meridan knew it. Hell, he wanted him to know it, wanted the young man know exactly how wild he made him. He moved between Mer’s legs and started sucking him while prepping him with slick fingers. It was all Meridan could do to keep from coming immediately.  
         “I’m ready, I’m ready. Please.  _Declan_.”  
         Hux lifted Meridan’s legs up and folded them around his waist before breaching him slowly but smoothly. Meridan’s back arched reflexively and Hux started thrusting immediately. As the general fucked into him again and again, Mer’s mind left his body to float somewhere above the bed. It only returned when he felt a tight grip clamp down on his wounded shoulder and heard the growl of the word “Mine.” They climaxed together.

* * *

 

“I think it’s time we discussed your career track options.”  
         “Really, sir? It seems early still.”  
         “Perhaps it is, but you’re on an accelerated path and we have a vacancy that I believe you could fill.” Meridan waited. “What do you think about Intelligence?”  
         Meridan’s eyes gleamed.  
         “That’s what I suspected. Captain Ledesma presented me with an official recommendation yesterday. If I approve this, you’ll make Lieutenant in two weeks’ time. What do you say, Major Noro?”  
         “Two questions, General. First, what happened to cause the vacancy?”  
         “Ah, well. Captain Vailit died.”  
         “From?”  
         “Complications from decades of poorly controlled diabetes.”  
         “Well, at least he wasn’t assassinated. Or executed.” Both of those outcomes were more common amongst intelligence professionals than in the general military population.  
         “And your second question?”   
         “Where would I be posted?”  
         Hux smiled kindly at the underlying concern. “Your base of operations will remain here on the Finalizer. Eventually I’m sure you will have assignments that require excursions. You won’t be directly under me anymore.” He chose to ignore Meridan’s smirk at the phrasing. “Intelligence is given a good deal of independence to pursue its particular goals.”  
         “Yes, I’ll gladly take it, sir. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”  
         “You deserve it. And don’t think for a moment that this is any sort of reward for our… for your… service in my quarters.”  
         “And the officers’ lounge on 44. Also the private holo room. And your office, of course. As well as that one time on the flight deck after—”  
         “Yes, Major. Thank you for your excellent memory. Should I ever need to compile a list of every location on board I’ve had you, I’ll be sure to let you know.” He already had the list at the ready, of course. But going over it item by item would make him think of new places to add to it, and he really needed to accomplish some things today.

 


	21. Social Functionality

_General A. D. Hux & Guest_  
_Your Presence is Cordially Requested by_  
_Col. (Ret.) & Mrs. Barlowe Chauncy-Spitz_  
_To Celebrate the Launch of the Resurgent-Besh Destroyer Class_

  
Hux groaned at the invitation. “I _loathe_ these events,” he declared dramatically.  
         “But you’re so good at them.”  
         “I know. That’s why I continue to end up in this painful position. A word of advice: Never show competence in something you despise doing.” He shook his head in defeat. “One of these days I should just get incredibly drunk and make a complete fool of myself to keep this from recurring. Dance with a lampshade on my head or suchlike.” Hux slid the piece of flimsy towards Meridan. It spun on its way across the surface of the desk. “At least this time you’re coming with me.”  
         “Sir?” The lieutenant held his hands out hopelessly. “I’m hardly high-ranking enough to merit that.”  
         “Unless I’m mistaken, it simply reads ‘General A. D. Hux and Guest’. It doesn’t list a minimum rank for my plus-one.”  
         “Is that really such a good idea?”  
         Hux glared at him. “Unlike you, I _am_ high-ranking enough to invite whomever I bloody well please. I’m hardly going to be sticking my tongue down your throat while the canapes go around, but I’m thirty four, my father the Commandant is dead, and I am thoroughly tired of discretion. If I’m going to suffer through this event, I might as well bring someone I know can amuse me. With any luck, it will keep the heiresses at bay this time.”  
         With a cruel snicker, Meridan inquired, “Is that a common problem for you? A deluge of eligible bachelorettes?”  
         Hux looked at him desperately and nodded. “Please save me.”  
         It was certainly odd, hearing the general openly beg.

  
“Lieutenant Meridan Noro!” a voice called out through the throng. Meridan froze as he attempted to place it—the voice was familiar but he hadn’t heard it in some time.  
         Someone from the Academy, surely. He searched the crowd and latched onto the face of Westin Burgett. A look of delight plastered over his face, he made his way through the tangle of attendees. “Holy shit,” he murmured, shaking Meridan’s hand enthusiastically. “Congratulations on your recent promotion. Again.”  
         “Thank you—” Meridan checked West’s insignia. “Major Second Class Burgett. Still on the _Indomitable_?”  
         “Yes. I never thought I’d run into you again. Oh, before I forget—” He waved over a nearby man in civilian dress. “I’d like you to meet Dr. Dovid Halis.”  
         “Pleased to meet you, Doctor,” Meridan said, shaking the man’s hand. “Medical Corps?”  
         “Yes. Anesthesiology.”  
         “He’s being humble again. He’s our Chief Anesthesiologist.”  
         “Stop showing me off, West,” Halis complained good-naturedly.  
         Westin narrowed his eyes at his companion and crossed his arms defiantly. “I’ll do no such thing.”  
         Meridan smiled genuinely at them both. “Pleasure to meet you, Doctor.”  
         “So, do you have a plus-one, Mer?”  
         The lieutenant’s smile became wry. “Actually, I’m the plus-one here.”  
         “Damn,” West whistled. Who gets to claim the First Order’s newest rising star?”  
         Meridan nodded meaningfully toward a group in the center that had formed around Hux and his private reserve whiskey.  
         “Which one? I only recognize General Hux.”  
         Coughing quietly into a fist, Meridan admitted, “Yeah. That’s the one.” His accompanying smile was sheepish.  
         “No fucking way—” But West’s disbelief was cut off when the general made a quick but no doubt diplomatic exit from his circle and headed toward them. He put a light but possessing hand on Meridan’s hip. Some of the members of his former circle noticed and the group began to talk quietly but animatedly about the discovery. Meridan saw one of the ladies mouth, _I knew it_.  
         “Thank gods you found someone to introduce me to. I thought I told you not to leave me alone with those monsters. They eat souls, you know.”  
         “You don’t have a soul to worry about, General,” Meridan soothed. “Allow me to introduce Doctor Dovid Halis, Chief Anesthesiologist of the Indomitable, and Major Westin Burgett.”  
         Hux shook both their hands. “It’s an honor, Doctor Halis. And Major Burgett, you attended the Academy with Major Noro.”  
         “Yes. Back when he was still pretending to be straight,” Halis answered for West, receiving a silent but vicious look in return.  
         The general tilted his head and declared, “I’m sure we can all sympathize to some extent, Doctor.”  
         The man sighed as his face fell a little. “I apologize, General—and Westin, of course. I’m from the Core; it’s easy for me to forget what it must have been like to grow up in a more traditional military family on some of the Outer Worlds.”  
         “The Core, really?” Hux asked with curiosity. “Well, let’s give these two a chance to catch up. I’d like to take this opportunity to discuss some of the newer paralytic agents you’re working with.”  
         “Oh?” The doctor’s eyes lit up at the opportunity to talk shop. “Do you have a medical background, General?”  
         “Two years as a combat paramedic and one year in the physician track. Hopefully I haven’t forgotten everything I once knew.” Hux steered Halis to the bar, leaving Mer and West alone.  
         They turned toward each other immediately, both wanting to speak at once. Meridan beat him to it. “I’m glad you found someone.”  
         “I know. He’s really handsome, isn’t he? And insanely fucking smart. I’m so lucky,” he gushed.  
         “How’s the adjustment? Coming out and all that?”  
         Westin chuckled quietly. “Remarkably easy, once I admitted it to myself. And after the thing with Ferrah—the engineer, that is—I couldn’t keep the lie going. She really helped me get my shit together.”  
         “That’s good. How about your family?”  
         He shrugged. “Coping. At least I have an older brother to carry on the name. So tell me something,” he demanded, spearing a cube of cheese with a toothpick. “Did you always have me figured as gay? Or did you think I was bisexual?”  
         “Let’s just say I never saw you look at a girl the way you looked at me.”  
         “But we never talked about that.”  
         “I know. I didn’t want to lose what we had.”  
         “What little that was. I’m sorry. I wish we’d dated. I think we would have been good together, since we were friends, and the sex… well, I’m sure I would have enjoyed it even more if I’d actually been comfortable.”  
         “Look at it this way, West. If you’d been my boyfriend, my studies probably would have suffered. Yours too. We might not be where we are now.” And Meridan was honestly pleased to see where West had ended up. The sad young man, overshadowed by self-doubt, had vanished, leaving in its place a cheerful officer with an admittedly attractive boyfriend.  
         Westin nodded. “I suppose so. Speaking of where we are, how did you land General Hux? I didn’t even know he was gay. I sort of figured he was asexual, y’know, married to the Order.”  
         Meridan snorted at the thought. “No, he’s very much not asexual. As for how we got together, well, I broke a light in a fit of rage, we sparred together, he invited me to his quarters, and now I have his initials cut into my shoulder.”  
         “Wow,” West declared. “So he’s not exactly a candlelit dinner and flowers kind of guy?”  
         “He’s more of a candlelit dinner followed by choking me and calling me names kind of guy. Then really expensive brandy after.”  
         “Oh damn, Mer. Not really my thing, but hey…” He shrugged, as if to say, _As long as it’s your sort of thing_. “It certainly fits his image, though. Pure authority. And that coat with the stripes on the cuff…”  
         “I know.” He caught sight of Hux and the doctor winding their way back towards them. “But I’m strangely, ridiculously happy.”  
         “Good,” Westin concluded decisively. “Me too.”

 

Back in their state room, Hux eyed Meridan hungrily. The lieutenant moved to take off his uniform, but the general stopped him with a firm hand on his wrist.  
         “Don’t yet. I’d like to try something tonight.”  
         “Yes?”  
         Letting go of Meridan’s hand and raising his chin with one finger, Hux whispered, “I want you to fight back.”  
         “As though I don’t want it?”  
         “Precisely.”  
         Tilting his head in contemplation, Meridan asked, “How much should I struggle?”  
         “Feel free to do what you can. After all, I won all our sparring sessions.”  
         Meridan narrowed his eyes to a glare at this none-too-subtle reminder before moving on to practical matters. “Is this going to cause trouble with security?”  
         Hux chuckled as he imagined an MP bursting through the door, determined to rescue the general from an assassination attempt only to find him bending his lieutenant over the nearest convenient piece of furniture. “Good point.” Bringing his comm up to his mouth, he said, “Security?”  
         “Yes, General?”  
         “Please disregard any commotion you may hear from my quarters in the next hour. I’ll be training with Lieutenant Noro.”  
         “Of course, sir.”  
         Hux could almost pretend he hadn’t heard a hidden smirk behind those words. Before this evening’s festivities, their relationship had already become something of an open secret. Slipping the device back into his coat pocket and grinning over the lieutenant, Hux inquired, “Well, shall we?”  
         “Yes, sir.”  
         “Let’s go with a sparring session turned unprofessional.” Watching Meridan nod, he removed his uniform until he was standing barefoot in undershirt and briefs. Noro followed suit. “Safe word per usual.”

 

Keeping Noro pinned to the floor with a hand wrapped around the back of his neck and the other around his wrists, Hux sat back and tilted his hips against the man’s ass. “I could have you, you know,” he reflected dreamily.  
         “What? Sir?” Meridan sounded appropriately stunned.  
         “You heard me, Lieutenant.”  
         Noro stumbled in his response. “But… why?”  
         “Because I can. Because I want to.” He laid down flat across Meridan’s back so he could whisper into his ear. “I know you’re gay. I’ve read your profile from the Academy. ‘Known sexual relationships with at least three other male candidates during his tenure.’”  
         “Please, sir. Don’t use that against me.”  
         Clucking his tongue as though disappointed by Noro’s concern, he asked, “Why would I do a thing like that? I’m just talking about what we have in common.” He kissed Meridan’s neck lightly and the lieutenant flinched away. “Do you prefer to bottom or top, Noro? Wait, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter.”  
         Meridan relaxed a bit. But then Hux continued speaking.  
         “Because I’m going to top, regardless.”  
         The lieutenant tensed immediately at this declaration. As Hux sat up again to begin grinding against him, Meridan managed to free one wrist. He brought the palm under his chest and used it as leverage to flip over onto his back, sending Hux toppling to the floor. A scramble for control followed. The lieutenant landed several good hits to Hux’s chin and sternum. He caught sight of blood—he’d torn Hux’s lower lip, although he couldn’t pinpoint when that had happened.  
         For a few moments during the scuffle, Meridan thought he might have to fake defeat. But then somehow Hux was standing over him, unsheathed knife in hand. The general licked a spot of blood off his injured lip. “Well, Lieutenant,” he casually announced. “Here we are.”  
         “Yes,” Noro panted, staring up at his commander from his position on the hardwood floor. “So it would seem.”  
         “Now, are you going to be good, or are you going to make me hurt you?”  
          _Fuck_ , Meridan thought. _He’d be an utter terror if this weren’t an act._ Because the general’s phrasing made it seem as though he were about to do Noro a favor by simply raping him instead of adding grievous bodily harm to the assault. “I’ll be good,” he swore.  
         “Glad to hear that.” With two flicks of the knife tip, he indicated Noro’s undershirt and briefs. “Strip.”  
         Standing to obey, Meridan didn’t look at Hux until he was fully nude. Then he finally raised his gaze. The ecstatic glint of power in Hux’s blue eyes was unmistakable. “What now?”  
         Another gesture with the blade followed, this time pointing toward the bed. “Go to the bed. Get up on it on your hands and knees.”  
         Meridan followed his instructions. Turning his head to look at Hux as the general approached, he asked, “Would you put the knife away, sir? Please?”  
         “Are you going to play nice?”  
         With a desperate nod, Meridan agreed. “Yes, yes I will.”  
         “Then there’s no need for this.” Hux reached over to place the blade on the bedside table. “But keep your hands where I can see them. Grip the slats of the headboard.” He picked up the bottle of lubricant and poured some onto his palm. Applying a measure to himself and dabbing a bit between Meridan’s cheeks, he entered without further preparation.  
         Noro bit back a wail. He imagined how this would feel if it were real and could almost taste the betrayal at a superior he respected so much taking advantage like this.  
         “Oh, _Lieutenant_ ,” Hux breathed. “That’s lovely.” He held his position, waiting for Meridan to relax. “Have you been with anyone else since you entered my service?”  
         Truthfully, Meridan answered, “No.”  
         “Call me ‘sir’, Noro,” Hux ordered crisply.  
         “I shan’t,” Meridan spat. “You don’t deserve it.”  
         “I deserve whatever I want to have. Such as your body and your subservience.” Then he began to move. As the discomfort faded, Meridan began to gasp quietly. “Oh? How’s that?”  
         “Fuck.” He was finding it increasingly hard to pretend as though he weren’t enjoying this. Hux felt so right, gripping him by the hips and riding his arse like the lieutenant was made for it. “Fuck.”  
         “Good boy. I’ve wanted to have you for over a year now. You’re my favorite person to imagine when I’m alone. You’re terribly pretty, you know. You have this studious look of concentration when you’re working. Sometimes you bite your lower lip and all I can think of is doing it myself. And your hair, Maker, I just _long_ to play with it.”  
         If he’d been asked, Meridan never would have guessed that Hux would use this opportunity to list his endearing characteristics. His facade of resistance faded. “Sir. Please.”  
         “Please what, Noro?”  
         “Please don’t stop.”  
         With a quick brush of his hand through Meridan’s curls, Hux purred, “I knew you’d like this. If you want to touch yourself, go ahead. I trust you now. You’ve earned it.”  
         “Thank you, sir.”  
         “I’ve imagined this so many times, Lieutenant. I should have shoved you against the wall and buggered you months ago.”  
         “Yes, you should’ve. You feel so bloody good.”  
         Hux finally sounded a bit out of breath when he answered by asking, “When were you last fucked like this, Noro?”  
         After letting out a brief moan, the lieutenant answered truthfully. “I’ve _never_ been fucked like this, sir.”  
         “Oh, I’m measuring up well against your past?”  
         Meridan nodded energetically. “You’re the best I’ve had, sir. Ever.”  
         Sighing happily in victory, Hux declared, “I want you to come whilst I’m in you. And then I plan to plough you until I finish.”  
         “You’re going to come in me, sir?”  
         “Yes, indeed, Noro. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll do it anyway.”  
         Shaking his head insistently, Meridan answered, “No, sir. I don’t mind. I prefer it that way.”  
         “Filthy thing. Pretending you didn’t want me to fuck your pretty arse. When all this time, you’ve been dying for someone to come along and force you to take it, to admit what you’ve wanted. You’re lucky it’s me. It could have been someone far worse. Ren, perhaps. He’s bisexual, you know. And terribly strong. I’m sure he’d have brutalized you.”  
         “Yes, sir,” Meridan panted in agreement. “I’m quite lucky.”  
         “Next time I’m in the mood, are you going to play the frigid bitch again? Or are you going to open your legs and bend over for me like a good boy?”  
         “Next time, General?”  
         With a predatory smile, Hux explained, “Oh, surely you don’t think I’m going to let a sweet thing like you go to waste. So go on and answer my question.”  
         “I’ll be good, sir.”  
         “You’ll be my little whore?”  
         Meridan nodded desperately, whining as Hux mercilessly ground against his prostate.  
         “If I order you to your knees in my office, will you open your mouth and suck me off?”  
         “Yes, sir.” Never mind that he already had, twice. He’d surely do it again.  
         “I can keep you back after a meeting, pull your trousers down, and have you over the conference table? Send you back to your shift with my seed dripping down your thighs?”  
         The lieutenant groaned at the thought. “Maker, yes, General Hux.”  
         “Good. Now come for me.”  
         Breath catching in his throat as he pumped his hand, Meridan arched his back and let out a shout as his climax swept over him. Then he collapsed onto the bed, not caring that he was lying directly on top of the wet spots he’d made. Hux eased down over him.  
         “Go on and relax now. Lie still and take it for just a little longer. I’m almost there.”  
         The only noises Meridan made were quiet, pathetic little moans at the apex of each thrust. But Hux was telling the truth, and it wasn’t more than a minute before he groaned and filled Meridan’s waiting—and now undeniably willing—ass.  
         After withdrawing gingerly, Hux placed a light kiss between the lieutenant’s sweaty shoulder blades and murmured, “Thank you, Meridan.” Stretching lithely, he added, “Gods, I’d kill for a shower. Are you in?”  
         In the fresher, Declan Hux washed Meridan by hand, pausing frequently to kiss his neck and shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned to the world of writing and posting! Thank you for your patience while I was working overtime and studying for the last exams I'll ever have to take.


	22. Training

Back on the _Finalizer_ , after dinner in their now shared quarters, Meridan declared, “I want you to train me.”  
         “Of course,” Hux agreed with a quick nod. “I’ll teach you how to run an interrogation.”  
         “No, not just that.”  
         With a curious tilt of his head, the general asked, “What, then?”  
         “How to withstand one.”  
         Hux frowned at the suggestion. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You’ll receive training from your supervisor as part of the on-boarding process.”  
         Meridan continued to present his case. “If I can learn to stand up to you, I’ll be able to handle anything less than Kylo Ren.”  
         “That’s not the point, Meridan. The fact is that I don’t want to… torture you.”  
         “Then it can be a roleplay sort of thing. Half training, half fun.”  
         “Oh, you think you’d like that?” Years ago, Hux had explicitly banned the sexual coercion of prisoners of war, but he wondered about the other side. “And I’d be Resistance, then?” That was a strange thought.  
         “Well, the First Order would hardly interrogate a First Order officer. Unless you want to be Internal Affairs.”  
         “I’d rather not.” The general could think of few offices less sexy than Internal Affairs. “Although the uniform I wear is one of my strongest interrogation tools.” Along with his name, it comprised the easiest part of his arsenal. These days, often all he had to do was appear in an interrogation room and implacably stare at a subject.  
         “Then it’ll be good practice for you to make do without it.”  
         At that, Hux gave a resigned roll of his eyes.

 

The following afternoon found the two of them in one of many identical rooms. Hux had reserved it “for training a new agent” as he’d phrased it, and the young female scheduler had blushed slightly before nodding and showing them to a room.  
         “I honestly can’t decide why I’m agreeing to this,” Hux griped once they were alone.  
         Meridan answered sweetly, “Because I asked very nicely and because you’ll enjoy it.”  
         “That’s what I’m concerned about.” He ran a hand through his hair. Clean and ungelled, it was softer than usual and loose strands fell rakishly across his forehead. “I must look a mess.”  
         “You look fucking gorgeous. Now give me a moment alone and then come in and interrogate me.”  
         Without a word, Hux shook his head and left. Meridan sat alone in the dark for over ten minutes—by his estimation, as he’d left both his chrono and comm with Hux. While waiting, he stretched slowly and tried to keep his mind from imagining what was about to happen.  
         The door slid open and the lights switched to 100%, instantly blinding the occupant. “Morning, sunshine,” Hux announced in greeting. “Sorry, Major Noro, is it?”  
         “Lieutenant,” Meridan corrected icily even as he continued blinking in an attempt to adjust his eyesight. He could already hear the difference in Hux’s voice: clipped tones had been replaced with an imprecise drawl.  
         Hux chuckled. “Bully for you. Sorry about the spartan accommodations here. You must be used to the finer things on the _Finalizer_.” Silence. Good: no need to rise to such easy bait. “How long have you been stationed there?”  
         “Fourteen standard months.”  
         “And your duties?”  
         Meridan shrugged and kept his response vague. “I help where I’m needed. My role is hardly classified information.”  
         “You’ve served under General Hux.”  
         “Most of the First Order does.” Looking up at his interrogator, Meridan found himself staring at a Resistance commander. Hux was entirely out of uniform, wearing plain trousers, a tunic and vest, and a utility belt. He could have passed for a relatively successful smuggler or spice dealer.  
         “But not directly like you have been,” the commander clarified. “Tell me about him.”  
         “Don’t you have a file? I’d hate to waste your time.”  
         Dragging a chair over, Hux took a seat directly across from Meridan’s bench. “Of course, but it’s all very dry and technical. What’s he like?”  
         “Red hair, speaks six languages, and likes holding hands while walking on the beach.” Actually, he highly doubted the beach part of this description, but the purpose was to be flippant, not accurate.  
         Hux stood up and slapped Meridan without warning. “What sort of leader is he?”  
         Snorting, Meridan retorted, “Better than anything you’ve got.”  
         “Can you be sure of that? Because I’m betting that none of our generals has fucked you for a comparison.”  
         Meridan looked up in utter surprise. “What was that?” he asked steadily.  
         “Ten months you’ve been at it, give or take? Tell me, are you two _boyfriends_ or do you just take it up the ass for promotions?”  
         “It isn’t like that,” he shot back defensively. Knowing his interrogator was getting to him, but unable to stop it, Meridan felt a dizzying moment of dissonance. A disconnect between his knowledge and his reactions.  
         “How old are you?”  
         “What?” Lieutenant Noro knew that abruptly changing the topic of conversation was used to bewilder those being interrogated; it still threw him off guard. He really wasn’t holding up very well. “I’m twenty four.”  
         “How else does someone your age make lieutenant in fourteen months?”  
         “I…” He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to center himself. “I suppose I could have bribed someone. Or perhaps my family name helped. Maybe I graduated first in my class. But I fail to see how that has any bearing on what I’m doing here. Even if it’s due to my personal relationship.”  
         Sighing as if disappointed that Noro didn’t understand, Hux explained, “Let me put it this way: Should we be expecting a heroic rescue attempt?”  
         The prisoner rolled his eyes. “That would hardly be a rational use of resources.”  
         “So he’s just using you for sex. That’s sweet. I’m sure he’ll find a replacement soon enough. He’s got an entire army to choose from, after all. Privilege of the office.”  
         A shrug. Statements like this didn’t bother him. Hux may in fact have had an army at his disposal, but he’d chosen Meridan—and only Meridan.  
         “Is that all you’re good for, then?”  
         Meridan spat on the floor before catching the gaze of his interrogator. He didn’t aim for the man’s shoes, but the gesture was clear enough. “Why? Curious to see what pleases General Hux?”  
         “If that was the case, I’d just take what I wanted. Like him, I imagine.”  
         The prisoner was impressed at how much Hux had gotten into his role; enough to disregard the subjunctive. A tickle of concern began to grow in his belly about how Hux was handling this. “If you think that would break me, you’re an idiot.”  
         “Let’s find out.” He grabbed Meridan by the hair, right at the top of his head where it hurt most. “This job is pretty stressful and I could definitely use some head.” Unzipping his pants, he stepped in. “So put that smart mouth to work.” His cock sprang out from a pair of striped boxers—Meridan didn’t even know Hux owned anything but briefs. Had the general raided the outfitters to equip himself for this afternoon? “This the sort of thing you like?” he asked, referring to his stiffening dick. “It is. You’re blushing. Cute.” He wanked it a little to get ready, then pulled Meridan’s head down to him. The prisoner didn’t exactly resist, but he didn’t help by leaning in either, and it took some effort to bring his lips into contact with the head. “Open up. Show me how you treat that redheaded general.” Lips parted and hesitantly closed around the tip. “Get down on it. Suck at it like the worthless whore you know you are.”  
         Hux had never spoken to him like this. _Worthless._ Meridan felt insulted and aroused at once; the combination was uncomfortable, mostly in the trousers area.  
         “Yes,” Hux said with a gasp. “This is all you’re good for, isn’t it? You’re just a pretty piece of ass, whoring yourself out to the highest ranking man who’ll take you.” He scoffed and held Meridan down. “And you can’t even get married in half your territories. What’s that like? Fighting for people who don’t think you deserve equal treatment under the law?” He answered his own question as the prisoner started choking in earnest. “It’s pathetic. What do you tell yourself to get to sleep at night? That change takes time? That they’ll come ‘round eventually?” He pulled Meridan off him by the hair. “Well?”  
         “Yes,” Meridan answered in a terribly low voice.  
         “Speak up. I can’t hear you.”  
         “Yes!” Turning his head, he coughed and spat on the floor to clear his throat. “Because it’s true. And in the meantime, we’ll get rid of you fucking terrorists.”  
         Raising an eyebrow, Hux retorted, “You’re one to talk. Fascist.”  
         “I’m not the one taking advantage of a captured, self-loathing faggot.”  
         At the sound of that word, Hux immediately let go of Meridan’s hair and stumbled back a step as though he’d been struck across the face. He held the back of his hand up to cover his wide mouth. The blue eyes betrayed a look of shock bordering on horror. Soon he turned his back to zip up and breathed heavily as he tried to compose himself. “Fuck. That’s it: I’m calling scene. Jawas. I can’t… I won’t continue doing this to you.” He returned to kneel down in front of Meridan and look up into his face. “I’m sorry. I think that brought out the worst in both of us. Let’s get back home now.”

 

That night in bed, Hux shut his book and spoke quietly. “Did you mean what you said today? About the self-loathing?”  
         Meridan gave a single-shoulder shrug. “Maybe. Sometimes, yes. Don’t you feel it every now and then? That you’re fundamentally flawed, broken even?”  
         Armitage Hux made a very slight nod. “But you called yourself… You used that word.” He couldn’t bring himself to say it; he didn’t want to be the sort of person who could.  
         The lieutenant turned toward him, but his gaze didn’t lock onto anything present in the room. “You brought up the subject of our loyalty to a society that doesn’t much care for us.”  
         “The Order isn’t a single society, Meridan. It’s a collection of cultures, bound together by a commendable loyalty to the rule of law. For the moment we’re mostly made up of Outer territories, and yes, they tend to have more conservative views on social issues, but… Eventually, we’ll have the Core as well. Then the Order will bring together the best attributes of both, and everyone will be stronger from it. The hardworking practicality of the Rim merged with a more understanding outlook on the varieties of the human experience. Including the gay ones.”  
         Brow furrowing, Meridan pressed the general for detailed guarantees. “And we’ll have full rights and protections? Workplace non-discrimination? Banning conversion therapy? Self-determination of gender?” All the things that hadn’t been present on his home-world; things he’d barely allowed himself to imagine when he was younger.  
         Hux gave Meridan’s hand a quick squeeze. “Of course.”  
         “And marriage?”  
         With a smirk, Hux turned toward him and asked, “Is that a proposal, Lieutenant Noro?”  
         Meridan couldn’t keep himself from smiling briefly before his sad expression returned. “But how can you make sure all of this will happen? I mean, it isn’t as though you’re going to become Emperor.”  
         A glint shone in Hux’s eyes for a tiny moment before flickering out of existence. “No. But I’m not going to be disappearing either. I can’t really see the Supreme Leader or his Knights of Ren being much involved in the day-to-day affairs of the galaxy, even once they run it.”  
         “And you will?”  
         Hux nodded. “My goal is—and has always been—an orderly and lawful galaxy.”  
         “But you’re so good at warfare.”  
         “It isn’t my only skill-set.”  
         Changing the subject a bit, Meridan inquired, “Is there room for me in this future?”  
         “Why wouldn’t there be?” He leaned over to kiss Meridan on the temple. “You’d make an excellent civil servant. A cabinet member, perhaps.” _And an even better Imperial Consort._ But he didn’t say that last part aloud.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearing the end of this story. (But I am working on a sequel.)  
> Notes for this chapter:  
> -Roleplaying and training overlap unprofessionally  
> -Hux uses the safeword  
> -Discussion related to "identity politics" and "culture wars" because those are apparently things


	23. Intelligence

Meridan sighed, staring at the palms of his empty hands. “Do you really believe I can do this?” He was sitting in Hux’s office, across from the general’s desk. The transfer had gone through, he’d just completed his first ten days of training. This morning he’d opened his official correspondence to discover an assignment for his first interrogation. For the first time, he was confronting significant second-thoughts, but he wasn’t certain whether they were due to performance anxiety or a nagging conscience.  
         “I believe you can do whatever is necessary. As long as you understand its necessity.”  
         “Of course I do. In certain situations, we have to use any resources at our disposal. I don’t doubt my commitment. Just… my ability to focus on what is needed at the time.”  
         The general nodded at this and gave Meridan an understanding smile. “I had the same doubts myself, early on. It gets easier, I swear.”  
         “I’m not you, Hux.” Looking away from his commander, mentor, and lover, he offered further explanation. “I… don’t enjoy hurting people.”  
         “Seriously?” Hux asked with a quirked eyebrow. “How much of a sadist do you think I am?” Meridan looked at him pointedly and Hux raised his hands in resignation. “Fine. I’ll grant you that. But I think you underestimate your own capacity for the same. I saw you dress down Ensign Huula those few weeks back. You were ecstatic for two full days.”  
         “That was just a power trip.” Meridan could admit that much. “It wasn’t sexual.”  
         Hux nodded in agreement. “Power trips are precisely what I’m talking about. And I don’t always get off on it; I just appreciate it in all its forms.”  
         The lieutenant decided to change the tack with his questioning. “How many interrogations have you run?” Perhaps something Hux said would grant him insight that he could use in practice.  
         “Twenty four. Which, on reflection, happens to be one for each year of your life. But it’s been a while.”  
         Meridan smiled, thinking back to their long-ago conversation about sexual partners. “Did you kill them all?” _The way you fucked all your men,_ he added silently.  
         “No.” The general offered no more information.  
         “But most of them?”  
         With a guilty nod of his head, Hux answered, “Yes. The first two I broke accidentally—I went too far before we got everything we needed. Such a disappointment. I should have known better, but I felt pressured for time. Their co-conspirators had three First Order hostages.” He met Meridan’s eyes, but his gaze was distant.  
         The lieutenant recognized the haunted look. Quietly, he asked, “Did you know them? The hostages?”  
         “One,” Hux almost whispered. “I couldn’t get his face out of my head for weeks after. Beautiful man, Sarkis Zontanian. Number sixty three on my list. We didn’t get to them in time, due in no small part to my carelessness.”  
         Frowning, Meridan observed, “You’re not encouraging much confidence.”  
         “Sorry. I thought I should try this full honesty thing. Since you’ve opened up so much to me.”  
         Meridan wasn’t going to complain about that, but the conversation had yet to offer him much in the way of pointers. “Any practical advice?”  
         Hux shrugged. “First time’s the worst for everyone. I recommend emotional dissociation.”  
         “That’s a bit vague.” Although he’d experienced some level of dissociation occasionally in the past, Meridan was unaware of a method to induce it.  
         “Not exactly.” Hux drew an amber vial out of the middle drawer and set it on the desk with a small clink.  
         Meridan’s eyes narrowed. “Is that _spice?_ ”  
         Hux nodded. “Research-grade glitterstim. To take the edge off one’s inhibitions.”  
         “Is that legal?”  
         The general chuckled. “Certain repercussions are waived for its use in official activities. Military intelligence, for example. Use of all available resources and suchlike.”  
         Meridan tapped the top of the vial with his index finger. “How does it work?”  
         “Let me show you.” After removing his gloves, Hux plucked the vial from under Meridan’s fingertip, unscrewed the cap, and tapped some powder loose onto his immaculate desk. He pulled a small box from the same drawer and slid it open to reveal a straight razor and a tiny piece of plastic tubing. With the razor he arranged the drug into two small lumps. He gestured for Meridan to join him. Obediently, the lieutenant took a seat on his lap. “The left one is mine, the right is yours.” Hux placed the tube against one nostril, covered the other with a fingertip on the side of his nose, and inhaled his portion. He leaned back, sniffing lightly, looking like a connoisseur. He held the tube out to Meridan. “Your turn.”  
         Meridan mimicked Hux’s actions and soon his sinuses were burning. His eyes teared. “Fuck! Thanks for the warning, asshole.”  
         “Shh, calm down. It won’t last.” In the meantime, Hux prepared another hit for himself. Meridan guessed he needed a larger dose due to tolerance, but he wasn’t going to ask.  
         Hux was right. The pain faded, leaving an oddly pleasant tingling in its place. The feeling spread along his cheeks like an internal blush creeping below the skin. “What can I expect?”  
         “First, you’ll feel a bit… off. Like your uniform is too big and the room is too small. Or the other way around. Then it’ll all start fitting into place. Energy. Confidence. Focus. Oh, and case reports indicate that some people end up with short-term telepathy. Hasn’t ever happened to me, though.”  
         “You’ve done this a lot, then?” At that question, Hux shrugged vaguely and Meridan didn’t push it. The general had done this enough to keep a kit in his desk and not wince when the powder hit his nasal passages, which was answer enough. “How long until it kicks in?”  
         “Maybe two minutes for the full effect.”  
         Meridan moved to rise from Hux’s lap but fell back before he could place his shoes flat on the floor. “Oh fuck… Dizzy now.”  
         Hux patted the top of his head comfortingly. “Close your eyes. You’ll feel better soon.”  
         Meridan settled into Hux’s lap, gathering comfort and warmth. He didn’t want to move for the next several hours. How was this a stimulant? He felt a twitch below the seat of his trousers. “Hux, are you hard?”  
         The general chuckled, breath tickling the back of Mer’s neck. “Yes, that tends to happen when you’re nearby, much less sitting on top of me.” And the spice didn’t hurt, either.  
         Without preamble, Meridan stood up and began to remove his belt. “Now that I think of it, you’ve never had me across your desk. I’ve only been under it.”  
         Hux smiled in amusement. “And here we go.” He snapped his fingers. “Depersonalization and loss of inhibition. That will last a few hours.”  
         “You knew this would happen,” Meridan accused without a trace of anger in his voice.  
         “I _hoped_ it would,” Hux corrected. “Get the rest of your clothes off immediately, then lean forward over the desk. I’ll take you the way I threatened after the party.”  
         As Meridan complied, Hux looked across his desk and considered moving his work out of the way. The spice must have hit him hard, though, because the idea of the pages scattered and strewn across the floor amused rather than infuriated him. For once, release triumphed over order.  
          _I’m going to pound that arse so hard,_ Hux thought intently. _He’ll feel me for days._  
         Meridan gasped across the desk. “Sir—”  
         Blinking his ginger eyelashes slowly, Hux whispered, “You… you heard that.”  
         “Yes.”  
         “Oh,” the redhead chuckled. “This is going to be very diverting indeed. Project a thought at me,” he said, motioning to his own forehead. “This sort of thing generally goes both ways, I’ve been told. If both parties have indulged.” Hux waited, hands on Meridan’s lower back, a thumb absently rubbing the edge of a scar. Nothing.  
          _Ah, well. I don’t need to be in his head to know when he’s enjoying himself._  
         Then an image of a memory flickered to life: Meridan kneeling on the floor, licking the general’s boot, ecstasy filling his mind as he cleaned up the mess he’d made on the shiny leather.  
         Hux hissed in satisfaction, licked a finger, and drove it home in one smooth motion.  
  _—I ought to have hooks for restraints installed in my desk._  
_—Improvise for now. Renovate later._  
         The general slid another finger in beside the first and contemplated as he methodically worked Meridan open. “Put your hands around the edge of the desk and do not dare move them.”  
        _—Use me in any way you see fit, General._  
         Hux’s last measure of self-restraint broke against a wave of lust and he entered Meridan. He could feel the discomfort and joy radiating from the young man. For his part, Meridan was only able to make small moans and gasps, but Hux felt his thoughts come across the ether toward his mind in single-word bursts.  
          _—Yes. Harder. Hux. Deeper. Hux!_  
         The general pounded away, leather-clad fingers gripping the lieutenant’s waist. _I’m going to leave bruises._  
  _—Good. I want you to mark me. I want to know who owns me._  
         “I do. I do,” Hux repeated aloud and grabbed Meridan’s initialed shoulder to underline the point. _You’re all mine._  
         “Yes, I am.” Then, silently: _Come in me, Declan. Leave me wet and used._  
          _—Shouldn’t be difficult, you beautiful whore._ Feeling Meridan’s pleasure was dragging Hux toward release faster than he was accustomed to. Climaxing with a shout, the redhead slowly withdrew and sunk back into his chair. “Sit,” he ordered quietly. Meridan turned around on the edge of the desk as Hux leaned forward between his thighs, lips already parted.

 

After his own climax, Meridan gratefully accepted the wipe Hux held out to him, cleaned his arse, and stepped into his briefs and trousers.  
          _—Shame you ever have to wear clothes,_ the general thought.  
         “I feel like a temporary Jedi,” the lieutenant announced with a barely-repressed giggle.  
         Rolling his eyes, Hux muttered, “Gods, please do try to contain yourself.”  
         Unable to heed this advice, Meridan heard his giggle transform into a boisterous laugh. “If this is what Force users feel like, why is Kylo Ren so fucking angry all the time?”  
         Hux shrugged. “Not sure. He’s just a miserable son of a bitch. I blame the parents.”  
         Meridan heard—or felt, it was hard to separate the sources of these signals—an unexpected fondness in the general’s voice. “You rather like him, don’t you?”  
         “I suppose I do. He irritates me unendingly, but we’re actually able to have decent conversations when he isn’t actively attempting to sabotage my ship and career. It’s like having a drunk child around—he’s a terror but impossible to truly despise.”  
         “Are you attracted to him?” Hux glared at the question, but Meridan recognized a small flare of lust in his eyes. “I see. I don’t blame you. His hair is nice.”  
         “Do not misunderstand me. Lord Ren is a one-man opera cycle. Being dragged into that mess is not my idea of a good time.”  
         “But I am?” Meridan teased with a smirk.  
         “Oh, shut up. Of course you are.” Hux pushed a curl of hair out of the lieutenant’s eyes. “You’re just damaged enough to turn me on without pushing me away.”  
         Their drug-induced connection was fading, but Meridan felt one last strong thought pulse out towards him.  
          _—And I love you._ “Fuck,” Hux spat out the word. He started to turn his back on Meridan, pressing fingertips against his forehead. _Shit. Shit. Shitshitshitshit—_  
         “What the hell are you cursing about?” Meridan asked aloud, risking a look at the general. Hux’s expression was infinitely relieved at his question. “And what was this about fucking?”  
         “You know, some of us are no longer twenty four and require a little more time to recover.” He was certain Meridan had overhead his unguarded thought, but felt a surge of gratitude that the man had chosen to ignore it.  
         “I’ll wait. Give me a cigarette in the meantime.” Meridan held out his hand in expectation.  
         Hux gave him a blank stare instead.  
         “Please. I’ve been in your mind now. I know you still smoke.” _And I know you think you love me._  
         With a put-upon huff, the redhead reached into the inner breast pocket of his coat to withdraw a metal cigarra case and his sparker.

 

Two nights later, they’d broken into the spice again. They knew they shouldn’t but they hadn’t been able to help themselves. The link it forged between their minds was too strong, too close, too tempting. Hux had Meridan handcuffed to the headboard and was spanking him roughly. It was harder than usual, since right now he knew exactly what his partner could take. When he was in Mer’s mind like this, he didn’t worry about the pain he was inflicting; he could tell precisely how much his lieutenant was enjoying it.  
_—I love the way I can’t think properly when you do this. I can’t worry at all._  
_—Any time you need it, just say the word and I will keep your dark thoughts at bay._  
        _—I always need it._ An especially vicious blow had Meridan whining aloud. _And please fuck me soon._  
          _—Patience, boy._ Hux reached out to cup Meridan’s face in his palm, then pressed his fingertips between the lieutenant’s lips. Greedily, Meridan began to suck on them. Then Hux withdrew his hand and brought it to Meridan’s arse.  
_—Please. Rescue me. You make everything make sense._  
_—I will break you down until nothing monstrous remains. Then there will only be us left. Just us._  
         Hux penetrated Meridan with two fingers at once, causing him to howl in unexpected pleasure. After adding proper lubricant and working him for a short time, he withdrew his hand delicately. _I’m taking you now. It may hurt some._  
        _—Good._  
         It did indeed hurt, but not for long.  
         After, they lay sprawled out across Hux’s bed. Meridan was sore and still panting when Hux turned to look at him sharply. “You tried to kill yourself.”  
         Meridan flung a forearm over his eyes and twisted away, although his back maintained contact with Hux’s side. “We need to stop doing spice,” he muttered dramatically. “I can’t keep anything from you post-coitus when we’re connected like this.”  
         But Hux was going to continue the conversation, with or without the lieutenant’s cooperation. “After Garrit’s death. Your father almost convinced you to join him.” Hux could feel Meridan sob silently against him. The general brushed the backs of his hands up and down the lieutenant’s spine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”  
         “Because I didn’t have the balls to really try. I hardly even bled. Then I put the scalpel away.”  
         “That sounds rather like courage to me.”  
         “Shut up.”  
         Hux pulled Meridan over onto his back to face him again. “No, you shut up.” He straddled Meridan’s chest and pulled the younger man’s hands over his head. Looking down directly into the young officer’s dark eyes, he whispered, “I am glad you decided not to try properly. I imagine you would have succeeded had you actually wanted to.”  
         Tears welled in Mer’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry for everything.”  
         “Don’t be. You’ve made it this far.” He leaned down and kissed him lightly. “I love you, Meridan.”  
         Lieutenant Noro promptly began crying in earnest. “Don’t say that, you bastard. You can lie to me about anything else. But not this. Never this.”  
         “I’m not lying to be _nice_. You know I don’t do that. So listen. You felt it the first time but you had the courtesy to ignore it. Now have the courtesy to pay attention.”  
         “You _can’t_ mean it,” Mer insisted. “You just love fucking me. I understand; it’s more than enough, I’m lucky as it is.”  
         Hux grabbed Meridan’s throat and began choking him. “Shut up and listen to me, you pretty fool.” He projected his emotions as clearly as he could.  
         Meridan gasped, more from the intensity of feeling that overwhelmed his mind than from the fist wrapped around his neck. “Hux… fuck…” The general released him. “You actually mean it.”  
         “Of course I fucking do. Now please stop crying. I find it unhealthily attractive. It makes me feel like a terrible person.”  
         “You _are_ a terrible person.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Drug use!  
> -Temporary telepathy!  
> -Discussion of past suicidal ideation!  
> -Feelings in general!


	24. Performance Art

Meridan slapped the Resistance spy across the face. It wasn’t meant to do any real physical damage; the gesture was dramatic, designed for humiliation alone. Just as Hux had struck his own face on the bridge for his breach of respect. “I’m getting bored, Farna,” he warned dryly. He hoped his act didn’t betray that this was his first interrogation.  
         “You want me to feel sorry for you, kid?” His voice was gravelly, eyelids drooping heavily. He’d looked tired even before being led into the interrogation room. Meridan suspected the only thing keeping him going at this point was a bitter resolve to survive solely to spite the Order.  
         “No,” the lieutenant said, drawing the word out to indicate his own weariness with the conversation they were having. “I want you to answer my one question. Where. Is. The. Ambush. Planned?”  
         “At your mother’s house.”  
         “Oh, hilarious.” Meridan rolled his eyes as he untied Farna’s left hand and lifted it from the armrest. He wrapped a fist around the pinky finger. “Where?” The word coincided with a clean metatarsal fracture. Farna howled in agony. “Is?” Ring finger. “The?” Middle. “Ambush?” Index. “I’m almost out of left hand, Farna,” he warned, squeezing the thumb in his gloved palm. This bone wouldn’t break as quickly or as neatly as the others. “Of course, you _do_ have another.” There was a part of his brain experiencing shock at the actions his body was taking, and horror at the levelness of his tone, disbelief in the steadiness of his hands. But Meridan recognized it as a remnant of conscience that no longer mattered. Bigger things were at stake here. Traditional mores were out of date—more than that, they were simply irrelevant—when it came to galactic stability. Besides, Armitage Hux was standing behind him, observing silently from a corner. Meridan knew this wasn’t standard protocol, that no other new transfers had received this level of coaching. Of course, no one else had been admitted to the Accelerated Leadership program, which was how Hux justified his presence and involvement.  
         Meridan stood waiting, gently rolling Farna’s thumb between his own fingers.  
         “Stop,” the spy pleaded, tears coursing down his cheeks. “Stop! I’ll tell you, just stop.”  
         Still he wasn’t ready to let go. He needed reliable information before giving the impression of backing off—that was something both the manual and Hux had made clear. So Meridan showed resolve and gave the man’s thumb a tight squeeze. “Not so funny anymore, is it? Or would you care to make another jab at my parentage?”  
         “No.” Farna was gulping air. “Mallaki. About seventy-two hours from when I was captured. Not sure how much time has passed,” he admitted.  
         “The diplomat’s shuttle.” Meridan raised a finger in the air to signal Hux. Without turning around, he knew the general was on his com-link to Intelligence HQ. He’d been present for more than moral support; he’d been waiting on standby to respond to critical information. “Thank you, Farna.” He sounded truly grateful as he lashed the prisoner’s now-useless hand back to the arm of the chair and felt Hux reach out to him.  
          _—Go ahead. We’ve got what we need._  
         Meridan’s hand dropped to his hip for his sidearm.  
         “Wait—I told you what I knew!”  
         “Yes. And now we’re done.” Meridan put the shot directly between Farna’s eyes.  
         Hux switched off the holo-recorder with a press of his thumb. Then he was standing directly behind Meridan, sliding his arms around his waist and weaving his fingers together above the belt buckle. “That was beautifully done, my sweet boy.”  
         “Keep talking like that and you can have me against the wall right here.”  
         Hux moved to face him. He tilted Meridan’s head up and inspected his eyes. They were dark from blown pupils. “Are you still high or is that desire I see?”  
         “Bit of both, love,” Meridan admitted with a grin. He hoped the room’s surveillance cameras couldn’t pick up the words they were speaking to one another, but he knew it didn’t much matter.  
         “Good combination. I like it.” Hux bit down on Meridan’s neck. The cameras would definitely capture this. Behind the one-way mirror that made up a portion of a wall there was a control room where a technician might still be paying attention.  
         Shrugging off thoughts of recordings and observers, Meridan heard himself order hoarsely, “Wall, General. Now.”  
         “We’re not exactly alone,” Hux murmured in warning, tilting his head first towards the corpse—or possibly the mirror behind it—and then to the security camera in the corner of the ceiling.  
         “Don’t care. I can’t make it back to our quarters,” he whispered, pawing at Hux’s perfect uniform.  
         Chuckling into his ear, Hux agreed, “Well now, sweetness, neither can I. But if you wrinkle my clothes I will _wreck_ you.” Hux opened a private comm channel. “Lord Ren, if you’re available, I request your assistance.”  
         There was a crackle of static before the knight responded. “Yes, Hux?”  
         The general pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration at Ren’s informality. “Please clear Cell Block D for the next sixty minutes. And cut the video feed. Without damaging any property. If you would be so kind.”  
         The comm was silent in his hand for a long moment. “On one condition, General.”  
         “And what is that?”  
         “Let me watch what you don’t want anyone else to see.”  
         “Oh for fuck’s sake, Ren.” Hux turned to Meridan in weary resignation and raised an inquiring eyebrow. _Well?_ Meridan gave a short nod, too desperate to object. “Very well.”  
         “Don’t worry, General,” the knight assured. “I won’t make my presence known.”  
         “Now get out of my head and stay out. That goes for Lieutenant Noro as well.” He added a silent _You bastard_ in case Ren was still listening. “Where are you, anyway?”  
         “On my way to the control room now.”  
         Hux frowned. He’d been hoping Ren would watch from his brain, or however it was that the Force worked. “Just don’t break anything on your way over, please,” he implored, sounding like a harried teacher who knew his problem pupil all too well.

 

Once Ren arrived at the control room, sweeping in with the usual dramatic flourish, he saw the general had already gotten started without him. Hux was pressing Noro against the wall with his hands held above his head, attacking the lieutenant’s neck with kisses that were closer to bites. At least they were still clothed.  
          _—I see you couldn’t hold off until I arrived,_ he projected outward. Both men cringed at the mental intrusion.  
         “I expect radio silence from here on out, Lord Ren.”  
         Ren didn’t answer; he just bolted the door from his seat and removed his helmet. Apparently satisfied that Ren was going to play nice, Hux removed Noro’s belt and held it out for a moment before he let it drop to the floor. Kylo had the impression that this was accomplished with an air of performance that would have otherwise been absent from the scene. He watched as the general continued to strip the lieutenant, then stood back to appreciate his handiwork.  
         Hux turned and walked over to a storage cabinet which he unlocked with his universal passcode. Drawing out a pair of handcuffs, he returned to Noro and clamped them around his wrists. “I thought we might as well avail ourselves of the facilities,” he explained before linking the connecting chain onto a hook on the wall above the lieutenant’s head. “Safeword as always, Lieutenant.”  
         Kylo raised an eyebrow at that. Not because he wasn’t expecting Hux to get rough with the man, but because of the insistence on consent. Was that something Hux always did, or was it particular to Noro? Kylo tilted his head quizzically, wondering precisely how attached Hux had become to this young officer.  
         The general’s greatcoat had already been draped over a chair, and now his belt and tunic followed. Kylo watched in appreciation as Hux slid the suspenders off his shoulders and pulled his undershirt over his head. Although he laughed inside about the suspenders, he was oddly pleased to see them returned to their position once Hux was shirtless. It was an admittedly good look for the redhead. Hux smirked and ran a hand through his hair, as though he were aware of and relishing Ren’s attention.  
         “Oh, don’t worry, I will,” he said with a broader smile as he leaned in to tongue the man’s ear.  
          _What the hell?_ Ren was certain Noro hadn’t spoken, yet Hux was obviously responding to something. He broke his promise and reached out to their minds. And found them linked.  
         It wasn’t a particularly strong bond, but it was far more than was typical between non-Sensitives. He searched for an explanation, and caught a glimpse of the two of them snorting some sort of powder earlier.  
          _Right._ Certain psychotropic drugs could form a temporary telepathic link between users. This meant Ren was going to have to skim the surface of their minds if he wanted to know all the filthy things they were telling each other. Which of course he did; one of his few criticisms of Hux’s memories was the lack of detailed sound and dialogue.  
          _—I have one hour to break you. Do you need me to get you ready with my fingers, or—_  
          _—No,_ Noro interrupted. _Fuck me now, and fuck me hard._  
         “That I can do,” Hux guaranteed aloud.  
         This back-and-forth between modes of communication made Ren suspect that they weren’t keeping track of what was said versus thought. He’d had similar experiences himself when involved with another Sensitive.  
         “Shit,” Hux cursed with a frown of disappointment. “I’m losing you.” He stood back, looking thoughtful. Kylo knew he was referring to their silent connection. “Do you want more, or should we go about this the old-fashioned way?”  
         “More, if you have any with you.”  
         “We’re in luck.” Hux went back to his greatcoat and slipped a vial out of an inner pocket. Kylo was struck by how little the general seemed to care about what the knight was discovering about him—his kinks, his drug use… Kylo watched Hux snort a cap-full then hold another out for the lieutenant. Kylo felt the euphoria hit them both, and even secondhand he appreciated its power. _No wonder it’s addictive._ But he reserved judgment; after all, he was the guest here. He took the opportunity to settle into the main technician’s chair and undo his flies. Glancing up through the one-way mirror, he saw Hux doing the same. But the suspenders held his trousers up, allowing him to retain a semblance of the authority his uniform afforded him. Still, Kylo thought he looked significantly younger shirtless with only his identity tags on his chest.  
          _—You look so good like that, bound and ready for me. Wish I’d had the foresight to bring your collar. It suits you perfectly._  
_—Stop praising me and get to work. Clock’s ticking._  
         The general brushed the hair off his forehead and removed the handcuffs from the hook. He placed the lieutenant’s bound arms around the back of his neck and his legs around his waist. “Hold on to me, sweet thing.”  
         Kylo sensed the lieutenant’s anticipation, felt Hux holding his breath as he shifted to get the angle just right, and he himself let out a long sigh as the general sunk in.  
         “Sir…” Noro whispered in delight. “Ah, fuck yes, all the way in.”  
         “Make all the noise you’d like, Pet. Soundproofing is on our side in here.”  
         “Oh, thank the fucking Maker.”  
         Kylo grew fully hard listening to the lieutenant enjoying General Hux’s cock slowly thrusting inside him, and he finally reached between his legs. His own dick jerked wildly at the first simple touch.  
_—You know how much I love hearing how good I make you feel._  
_—I know how much you love any boost to your ego, so, yes._  
         The general backhanded Noro across the face for that unspoken comment. “If you’re going to be a brat, I have no qualms about treating you like one.” _This_ was the sort of thing Kylo had been expecting. “Now are you going to behave?”  
         Noro grunted. “Yes, sir. As long as you keep… fucking me… like this.”  
         “And were I to stop?” Hux’s grin matched the light in his eyes as he came to a complete standstill. Kylo decided to play along and ceased all movement of his own hand.  
         The lieutenant wailed in disappointment. “No, don’t stop, sir, please don’t stop.”  
         “Or what? What exactly are you going to do? What can you do?”  
         Meridan sullenly admitted, “Nothing but beg, sir.”  
         “That’s a good boy. Tell me what you want.”  
         Kylo watched their power play with fascination. Hux knew how much Noro wanted this, Noro knew how much Hux wanted to continue, and yet they were breaking for this teasing interaction. The knight’s cock was throbbing against his still palm during this exchange. It ached, but in a tantalizing sort of way, since he knew that as soon as Hux gave in, so would he. Kylo and Hux listened together as Meridan Noro pleaded for the general to return to fucking him against the wall. Eventually he did.  
         “Thank you, sir, thank you,” Meridan repeated happily. And silently he added, _I don’t deserve this, but I’m so very grateful._  
          _—You may not deserve this, but I certainly do._  
         Kylo listened to the slap of their bodies and Noro’s blissful grunts and had to slow his hand to postpone his orgasm. He decided not to come until one of the others did; if he could possibly help it, he’d wait until the second. He had a suspicion that Hux usually climaxed first, that he made Noro wait before rewarding his performance.  
         The lieutenant spoke up again, his voice surprisingly steady considering the couple’s current activity level. “Did you enjoy watching me, sir? Earlier?”  
         “The interrogation?”  
         “Yes, sir. Did you like the way I killed him?”  
         “Oh, yes. This is your reward for a job _very_ well done.” Hux was finally panting now. He turned his head to the one-way mirror and spoke directly to the knight behind it. “How are you doing in there, Lord Ren? Enjoying the show?”  
         He was surprised at the invitation to comment. _Immensely, General._  
         “Anything in particular you’d like to see?”  
         Kylo didn’t even have to think about this. _Make him come. Fuck him all the way through it and beyond._  
         “And how long should I hold out?”  
          _—As long as you can. At least ten minutes. I want to watch and hear him fall apart with you inside him._  
         Noro whimpered. “You’re both such assholes.”  
         Hux clamped a hand over the lieutenant’s mouth as he took firm hold of the man’s dick with the other. “Shut up and take it like a good boy. Show Lord Ren how well you can behave for me. Can you do that much?” Noro nodded, sucking at his lip to keep from biting it. “Now, I’ve already given you my permission. So come whenever you’re ready.”  
         Kylo understood this meant that they had an agreement in which Noro usually needed express permission from the general to climax. He could hardly imagine having someone so intoxicated with him that he or she would be willing to control their orgasms at his discretion. But he wasn’t at all surprised to find that this was the sort of thing Hux would find great satisfaction in. It turned out that the general’s thirst for power ran quite deep.  
         “And come loudly for me. I want Lord Ren to know exactly how good it feels.”  
         “Sir! Fuck!” Noro cried out and climaxed into Hux’s hand. The general brought his fingers first to his own mouth, then to the lieutenant’s. This ended with them kissing, Hux still thrusting as hard as he could. Kylo was beyond ready to come, but he had resolved to wait. If Hux were able to follow his instructions, there would be nearly ten more minutes of this. And the knight wanted to pay close attention to all of them.  
         Hux lasted for fourteen. Noro continued to make broken, tantalizing noises the entire time. Eventually Kylo felt Hux hold his breath, then watched his motions become ferocious and sloppy. The general was losing control, and it was a mesmerizing sight. Hux kissed Noro deeply, desperately, and moaned into his open mouth. The redhead grabbed his lieutenant by the throat and finished with a few slow, brutal thrusts. Listening to Hux’s surprisingly vocal climax, Kylo finally allowed himself to come, panting and arching into his pumping hand. He looked down and wished he had somebody to clean up this mess, preferably with their lips and tongue. Briefly and not for the first time, he smiled at the thought of ejaculating all across General Hux’s haughty face. Kylo admitted to himself that they would probably have amazing hate sex. Sighing, he cleaned himself with a wiping motion in the air, then looked up at his evening’s entertainment.  
         — _Gods, you sweet thing, I will never tire of spending inside you._  
         In response, the lieutenant radiated an exhausted joy. A quiet little thought flickered out from Hux to Noro then. It was subtle and Kylo barely caught it, stunned as he was from his own delayed release.  
        _—Love you, Mer._  
_—Love you too, Declan._  
         More than anything else he’d witnessed between them, Kylo knew this was certainly not something he was meant to be a party to.  
         The lieutenant added, _Is he still listening?_  
      _—I don’t care._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings:  
> -Enhanced interrogation techniques (ie, torture)  
> -Murder  
> -Drug use  
> -Consensual voyeurism/exhibitionism
> 
> Remember, Gay Space Fascists are still fascists.


	25. Past and Present

“I’ve seen what Seachnall looked like,” Meridan spoke in a hushed voice as he lounged next to Hux at bedtime. “He was beautiful.”  
         “So was Garrit.” Hux turned from his datapad to give his boyfriend a piercing, searching look.  
         Meridan blinked and glanced away, then up at the ceiling. “Do you…” He took a moment to collect his thoughts in order to continue properly. “Do you ever think that you’d no longer be a good match for him? That your grief and everything that came after changed you too much?”  
         “Yes,” Hux admitted quietly. “I don’t think Seachnall would love me now. The person whom I’ve become.”  
         “The general?” Meridan asked, surprise in his voice. How could anyone not respect what A. D. Hux had done with his life? Even those who didn’t agree with him would have to be impressed with his ambition and dedication, his intelligence and resolve.  
         “The calculating sadist.” Hux flipped a cigarette into his open mouth and lit it with a smooth flourish of his sparker. It was the sort of move that used to garner appreciative attention back at the Academy. Watching him now, Meridan understood once again why the man had never had trouble finding interested partners. “I was different before. When we were together. I mean, I usually topped, but I didn’t ever want to hurt him. That never even occurred to me as something I’d enjoy. But it’s more than that.” He watched the smoke curl above their heads and circle in the air before being sucked into the purification vent. “To be perfectly honest, after he died, I discovered exactly what I had in me because there was no motivation left to hide it. The capacity not only to murder, but to enjoy it. Now I suspect that I originally entered the Medical Corps to avoid finding out my capabilities in that respect. I wanted to be a halfway decent person, and I managed for a little while. Seachnall was the single thread that held me to common decency.”  
         “And then you lost him.”  
         “Yes. I also lost my mind, a little.” He glanced at Meridan and saw the lieutenant about to ask for details. “Well, you already know I killed the four candidates who caused his death. But during that time I set up a profile on our Net. For casual sex. The candidates who responded kept me quite busy. I didn’t even learn the names of most of them. And then there was Palo—a boy who turned on Seachnall’s murderers to help me kill them. He was the straight boy on my list.”  
         Now Meridan recalled their conversation his first night in these quarters. He’d been terribly curious back then but had let the subject drop, as he’d seen the far-off look in Hux’s eyes. “How did you manage to seduce him, anyway?”  
         “Ah. I’m not particularly proud of that. Glitter.”  
         “What?” Meridan asked, even though Hux had spoken very clearly.  
         “You heard me, Meridan. In my defense, he was the one to offer a blowjob for a line. It became a weekly activity, and slowly I convinced him to try more and more. Eventually I fucked him. And he kept coming back.”  
         “I can see how that might be… habit-forming. But, really, drugs for sex?”  
         Hux shrugged. “As I was saying, I don’t think Seachnall and I would get along particularly well now. But I still wish he were alive.” He crushed his cigarette out rather vindictively.  
         “If he were alive, though, you’d be a different person.”  
         “Yes. Do you feel similarly about Garrit?”  
         Meridan nodded and swiped a cigarette for himself from Hux’s case. “After receiving my commission, I would have gone back for him. Just like I’d promised. Done the whole civil ceremony thing. Bought a house somewhere quiet. Adopted a pet or two. Lived with him on leave, then moved in fully after retirement. You know. The way people do.”  
         “But we’re not like other people.”  
         “No, we aren’t.”  
         Hux gently turned Meridan onto his side and traced the initials on his upper arm, reminding himself what exactly they meant. “And as much as I loved him, and still do, I don’t regret where I am today. Or what I have with you. It’s far more than I deserve, and I want to thank you.” Then he lowered his face to bite down on Meridan’s shoulder. His teeth were lighter than usual; it was an expression of affection more than anything else.  
         “Do you want to play?” Despite the seriousness of their conversation, Meridan knew he could become interested if Declan Hux were. It didn’t take much; a few words and a meaningful gaze would suffice.  
         “Actually, I think I’d just like to hold you tonight.”  
         This was a first. Meridan felt like he should be disappointed or insulted but instead he just felt comfortable—and oddly complimented. So he snuggled up to Hux and soon fell asleep.

 

The door to the private room in the lounge slid open and Lord Ren entered. Removing his helmet and giving a silent nod to where Hux reclined in his armchair, the knight took the seat beside him.  
         “Thank you for allowing me to observe the other day.”  
         Flicking ash into the tray balanced on his crossed knee, Hux answered dryly, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” They could have been talking about regimental training for all the emotion the general betrayed.  
         “The things you did to him—”  
         “Are we really having this conversation?” Hux asked incredulously.  
         “Yes, Hux.”  
         The redhead knocked back his drink and settled further into the leather of his chair to prepare himself for the discussion to come. “Fine. Which ‘things’ are you referring to, exactly?”  
         After briefly clearing his throat, Kylo detailed, “The handcuffs and slapping and making him beg. Is that common for you two?”  
         “Yes,” Hux allowed. “We don’t always play like that, but it’s frequent enough. More often than not.”  
         Kylo leaned in, eager for details. “Have you ever hurt him? As in something more than just a slap to the face?”  
         Hux nodded. “Oh, yes. He enjoys a good long choke now and then. I have a collar and leash for him to wear. Also—” He cut himself off and looked past the knight.  
         “You know you can’t just stop like that,” the knight insisted with a sour, disappointed look.  
         “What, you need more jerk-off material from me?” He watched Kylo shrug unabashedly. “Alright. I wrote my initials on his shoulder. With my dress knife. It’ll be permanent.”  
         “Oh, Force.” Kylo visibly squirmed in his seat at this news. “Has he always be into those sorts of activities?”  
         “No, he’s just a natural.” Hux lit a cigarette, cupping a hand around the flame until it took. The gesture was unnecessary in the still air of the lounge, but it was an ingrained habit. The reflected light illuminated the red in his hair and the few nearly invisible freckles on the bridge of his nose.  
         “You introduced him to it?”  
         “Yes, but he was hardly naïve when we started. For example, Ren,” he began.  
         “Yes?”  
         Hux shook his head, wondering why he felt the sudden need to share this information. “The things he does with his mouth… I’ve only been with one other person who could rival his blowjobs.”  
         Kylo wanted to say that he knew.  
         “He can take a good deal of punishment, too, although he really doesn’t merit much of it.”  
         “Do you invent reasons, then?”  
         “Yes. I made some rules I knew he’d end up breaking. Just so I could break him. But… As much as I love controlling him, I find I don’t wish to hurt him as much as I have in the past, with others.”  
         Changing the subject slightly, Kylo dared ask, “Have you ever been on the receiving end of that sort of thing?”  
         The answer came instantaneously. “No.”  
         “Do you think you’d like to see what it’s like?”  
         “No.” The general’s voice was absolutely flat.  
         Kylo must have decided to press his case, because he added, “Well, if you’d ever like to give it a shot…”  
         Hux burst out laughing. After a few moments, he struggled to compose himself enough to explain. “Ren—Kylo, I’m sorry. But I’m not much of a switch, and the thought of doing it for you… Forgive me for thinking it would be a terrible idea.”  
         “Why?” The expression on Kylo’s face could only be described as hurt, which served to amuse Hux even further.  
         “Have you ever topped like that, with anyone?”  
         “Well, no, but I’d like to try.”  
         “There you have it,” Hux stated conclusively. “I’d be particularly reckless to let a novice sadist and professional psychopath with magic powers and anger management issues physically restrain and fuck me.”  
         Groaning in frustration, Kylo protested, “And I keep telling you that the Force isn’t magic.”  
         “Really? That’s the part you take issue with?” He permitted himself a chuckle before continuing. “Also, you at least half hate me. I’d more than likely end up dead.”  
         “Only after some really fantastic sex,” Kylo added, as though the clarification would more than make up for any death that might follow.  
         “As you’ve witnessed yourself, I’m already having fantastic sex. So it’s not worth it, Kylo. Recipe for a goddamned disaster.” A sudden suspicion hit him, and he had to ask. “Have you even been with a man before?”  
         “Of course I have. What a stupid question. I wouldn’t proposition you without any experience.”  
         “Giving or receiving?”  
         “Both.” Waving a hand in the air, the knight segued, “Anyway, how about him?”  
         “Him?” Hux knew all too well what Kylo was intimating, but he wanted to buy himself some time to put together a response that didn’t involve outright shouting.  
         “Lieutenant Noro. Would you be open to me—”  
         “Oh, there is no way in hell that you’re getting your sadistic, murdering hands on him.”  
         Childishly, Kylo pouted. “You’re a sadistic murderer as well,” he pointed out.  
         “But you’re a fucking lunatic with severe impulse control problems. Also, he’s mine and I don’t share well.” He finished his second drink. “Besides, it would seem I’m in love.” He still couldn’t believe he was saying this, not after a decade and a half of swearing he’d never let it happen again.  
         “I know. I’m… surprised by that.”  
         “No more so than I.” The general fell silent, and neither man spoke again until they took their leave from one another.

 

Meridan greeted Hux at the door with a brief kiss on the cheek. “And how is Lord Ren?” he inquired with the barest hint of a smirk.  
         “Tolerable,” the redhead allowed tersely, as if to say, _That’s him at his best._  
         “Did you talk at all about the scene in the interrogation room?” As Hux nodded wordlessly, Meridan added, “I assume he enjoyed it.”  
         “Of course. But mostly he wanted to ask questions.”  
         Meridan’s brow wrinkled. “About?” _Maybe the drugs,_ he guessed, wondering if Hux’s habit were coming around to bite him.  
         “The nature of our interactions. Specifically, the power differential between us.”  
         The lieutenant replayed the scene as best he could. “I didn’t think it was all that BDSM-y.”  
         “Neither did I. But Ren noticed the choking, the way I made you beg, the fact that we called each other ‘sir’ and ‘boy’.”  
         “Oh.” These things seemed standard and low-key to him now, but now he imagined how it must have looked to an uninvolved observer.  
         “He wanted to know how deep that sort of thing went.”  
         “You know, you enjoyed performing more than I would have guessed,” Meridan remarked, a tiny smile playing around his lips as he thought back.  
         “I suppose I did,” the redhead responded noncommittally. He was busy reaching out for Meridan’s hips. Spending time talking to Kylo about his boyfriend had wound him up a bit. He’d never much boasted of his conquests, but something had made him want to share this one. He’d wanted to praise Meridan even when the man hadn’t been present to hear it.  
         “You liked showing off for him.”  
         “It was amusing to flaunt what we have in front of someone who would… appreciate it.” He kissed Meridan’s ear, then whispered into it, “And don’t pretend that you didn’t enjoy it as well. Knowing that he was in the next room, watching everything. Hell, he probably knew how it felt to be inside you, the heat of your arse while I fucked you into the wall. It seems you have something of an exhibitionist streak as well.”  
         “I’ve never shown off before. This is the first time I’ve had anything that would instill jealousy in another.”  
         “Well, now you have something Lord Ren wants.”  
         “A fantastic sex life?”  
         “Yes, that too, of course. But I was thinking of the way he propositioned me not an hour ago.”  
         “Really?” Meridan was now smiling openly. “What exactly was he looking for?”  
         “It seems he’d like to top me the way I do you.” The lieutenant buckled over with laughter. “Yes, that’s about how I responded. Then he asked if I’d be willing to share you.”  
         Meridan managed to straighten back up. “Now there’s a thought.” He tried to visualize the scene. Would Hux just drop him off in Lord Ren’s quarters for an evening, and grill him about details later? Would he stay to watch Ren take him, giving suggestions and pointers like a holoporn director? Telling the knight precisely what would drive Meridan out of his mind? Or would they both want to take an active role? He thought back to his conversation with Nik about spit-roasting, and imagined it with Hux and Kylo Ren.  
         Hux turned to him sharply and suddenly held him pinned to the couch cushions. “Do I not satisfy you? You think he’d fuck you properly? That overgrown child?”  
         Meridan had been mostly teasing, but in an instant he decided to play along; he wanted to see where Hux would take this. “What if I do? What if I’d like the both of you to have me at once?”  
         The general scraped his blunt fingernails down Meridan’s chest, hard enough to leave a trail of red lines along his skin. “You think you’d like that? Having the two most powerful men in the galaxy violate you?” When Meridan just smiled cryptically in response, Hux slapped his face. “Well, you little whore?”  
         “Perhaps. If you’d be willing to share your favorite toy.”  
         Hux recalled the first person he’d called his favorite toy, long before he started playing these elaborate games. Back when love was simple and all-encompassing. Before he’d learned the joy of control. “We’ll discuss this again when we’re not playing. In the meantime, I’d like you to shut up and suck me off.”  
         “Gladly, sir.”  
         “I said _shut up_.” Hux pushed him more or less gently to the floor.  
          …  
         “How much did you mean what you said earlier about Kylo?” Hux asked, gazing at the lieutenant currently panting to regain his breath. To be perfectly honest, the redhead was proud of the dicking he’d just finished delivering. Something about the teasing subject of Kylo Ren had pushed him to prove that he could fuck just as selfishly as a younger, more hot-headed man. And judging by the grin on Meridan’s face, the lieutenant had greatly appreciated it.  
         “I’m not precisely sure. I know I find him attractive, and I know I enjoyed having him watch.”  
         Hux shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed to him sharing the room while he watched again. If he enjoys it, I’d allow him to jerk off. Maybe onto you.”  
         “How about commentary?”  
         “Oh, that’s right. I forgot the fact that he encouraged us.”  
         “Only after you invited him to,” Meridan pointed out. “And at least if he were physically present, he wouldn’t have to do that creepy voice-in-your-head thing.”  
         “Well, that would be an improvement.”  
         They negotiated. Meridan spelled out precisely what he would like to have happen, and left it up to Hux to decide how far it would go when the time came.

 

Kylo sunk further into the chair as he watched Meridan take Hux in his mouth. Kicking a long leg over an armrest, he lazily brushed a few fingertips over his groin, recalling Hux’s memory of precisely this sort of thing. It was far better watching it in person, although he refrained from dipping into the general’s point of view, since he wanted to last a good long while tonight.  
         Hux turned his head to the knight. “Can you tell how good he is at this, Ren?”  
         Mouth parched, Kylo nodded wordlessly.  
         “Shall I fuck his face, then?” Again, Kylo was surprised to have his opinion taken into consideration at all. “He can take it like a professional.”  
          _I know he can. I’ve seen it from your perspective,_ Kylo thought but didn’t share this information aloud. “Yes.”  
         The general looked down and arched an eyebrow. “Well, what are you waiting for, boy? You want me to put some credits in your waistband?”  
         Meridan smiled shyly, then opened his mouth wide and leaned in. The look on Hux’s face once fully inside was pure bliss. Slowly, he reached his right hand out and grasped the hair at the back of Meridan’s head. Kylo watched in fascination as Hux directed Noro’s movements, holding him down as long as he dared before pulling him off to allow him to catch his breath. Saliva ran from the corners of the lieutenant’s mouth and tears rolled down his cheeks, but he seemed entirely unconcerned by any of that. The man just looked up at Hux with eyes full of acceptance and joy at being of use. Kylo wondered if anyone would ever look at him like that.  
         As though guessing Kylo’s thoughts, Hux spoke again. “I imagine you’d like a turn at this, My Lord.” His voice was only half-sarcastic. “Is that the case?”  
         Kylo rolled his eyes. For a purported genius, the general could certainly make some annoyingly obvious observations. “You know damn well I would, Hux.”  
         “Then get over here before I change my mind. I’ll even hold his head down for you.”  
         He didn’t need to be told twice. Nearly tripping over his robes as he made his way to the center of the room, Kylo felt his pulse skyrocket as his brain caught on to what was about to happen. He stood next to his co-commander and looked down at the young officer, shirtless with his ID tags around his neck, but still wearing the lower half of his uniform. From this angle, Kylo could see the edges of a few thick scars peeking over the man’s bare shoulders. He tried not to dwell on what he knew about their origin. Luckily that wasn’t difficult once Meridan reached inside his robes and located the flies to his trousers.  
         “You wear _pants_ under all of this?” the young man asked him with raised eyebrows and a smile.  
         “Are you surprised?”  
         Meridan shrugged. “I suppose I figured you went commando.”  
         Kylo pulled off his outermost robe, then continued to remove various layers. Now they were all bare-chested, and Kylo knew from experience that the other two men were surveying his muscles and scars.  
         “And you think our uniforms are ridiculous,” Hux commented, shaking his head in vague disbelief at the heap of abandoned fabric at the knight’s feet.  
         “At least I don’t wear suspenders.” Having finally stripped down to his trousers, Kylo reached over and playfully pulled one of Meridan’s suspenders back over his shoulder. His hand brushed against Hux’s initials on the lieutenant’s warm skin, and he felt the man shiver briefly at the touch. “Oh,” he murmured as Meridan’s mind replayed a short memory of Hux’s knife methodically biting into his skin, then the general licking up the blood he’d spilled. “So that’s how General Hux claims his possessions. By writing his name on them.”  
         Meridan flushed lightly, then inclined his head in a deferential nod. “Yes, Lord Ren.”  
         “So very formal. I suppose you would take after Hux,” he observed, stroking Meridan’s chin with the tip of a thumb. “Although I prefer the way you say my title… like you mean it.”  
         “I do, My Lord.”  
         “That’s so thoughtful.”  
         “That’s enough flirting, you two,” Hux declared firmly.  
         Kylo shrugged his shoulders and unbuttoned his flies. His cock sprung out, almost fully erect. Meridan’s eyes widened and dilated at the sight. “Maker,” he breathed.  
         “Yes, yes, we’re all very impressed by Kylo Ren’s enormous member.” Hux’s voice was mocking, but only because he himself was having trouble refraining from admiring it. “Now be a good host and start choking on it, would you?” Right now the general needed to distract himself from imagining that dick stretching and filling his boyfriend’s arse, and the corresponding ache in his own balls. Because that would mean _sharing_ , and although he knew Meridan wanted it, Hux wasn’t sure about himself. He’d had threesomes, but never with anyone he truly cared about. No one who could’ve caused him jealousy. And everything had been so much easier then, without the complications from emotions. Hux was only just beginning to learn how to navigate those treacherous things.  
         “Shouldn’t be too difficult,” Meridan commented with a lopsided grin as he grasped Kylo by the base of his dick. He moved in close and licked along it from hilt to tip, getting a feel for his length and girth. Hux moved to stand behind him, although he briefly regretted his offer to guide Meridan’s head as it meant he was going to be facing Kylo. _Ah well, let the man look at me during it if he wants._  
         “Ah,” Kylo murmured as Meridan popped the head in his mouth and lapped around it with his tongue.  
         “Has it been some time since you’ve last had the pleasure?” Hux teased, watching the satisfaction play across Ren’s expressive face.  
         Giving Hux a bitter glare, Kylo retorted, “You know it has. Not all of us have an entire army to choose from.”  
         The general ignored the bait. “What about your knights?”  
         Another pointed look followed the first. “Minala Ren has made it abundantly clear that she’s no longer interested in our former pursuits.”  
         “Well, then, enjoy my gift to you.”  
         “I will. I am. Oh, fuck.” This last comment was due to Hux pushing Meridan’s face down towards Kylo. The knight gave a low growl as his cock filled the lieutenant’s mouth, slid over his tongue, and entered his throat. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh, shit.”  
         “Just wait until I make him move.” Hux pulled Meridan back, letting the man gasp for breath. After a count of five, the general shoved him back down again.  
         Kylo lowered his gaze to stare at the way his entire length vanished between the lieutenant’s lips. “Force, I’ve never… No one’s ever… taken me all the way like that.”  
         “I told you he was good on his knees.”  
         “But what does he get out of this?” Kylo wondered what sort of reward Hux would give his submissive… toy… boyfriend... whatever he called the young man. Surely there was an exchange?  
         “The joy of obedience. The pleasure in being of use. Isn’t that so, pet?”  
         Meridan hungrily drew in air once Hux permitted it. “Yes, sir,” he murmured happily. Saliva ran down his chin and tears slicked his cheeks. Kylo had never seen someone in such clear physical discomfort look so content. He glanced down and saw the bulge in the young man’s pants.  
         The knight came to the sudden realization that _this_ was Noro’s reward. The young man got off on pleasing people—and especially Hux. “You’re made for this sort of thing, aren’t you? Servicing powerful men? Making them grateful?”  
         The lieutenant nodded. “Yes, My Lord,” he panted before Hux pushed his head down again.  
         Kylo glanced up at Hux. “Why don’t you fuck him?”  
         A slow smile spread over the general’s lips. “While he blows you? Yes, I rather like that idea. How about you, darling? Would you like us both to take you at once like the good little whore you are?” He pulled Meridan’s head back and appreciated the way Kylo’s sopping wet dick popped out from between his lips to bob lightly in the air. “A commander at either end?”  
         Meridan nodded vigorously. “Yes, General. Yes, My Lord. Please use me any way you’d like.”  
         Kylo had never heard something like this in real life; it was the sort of thing people said in porn vids. “Maker, Hux,” he breathed. “You’re so fucking lucky.”  
         “Well, by extension, so are you for tonight. Enjoy this generosity, because I’m not much for sharing.”  
         Meridan moaned around Kylo’s dick as Hux knelt behind him and prepped his arse. The lieutenant’s mouth left Kylo for a moment as he panted at the realization that the general was ruining a pair of his leather gloves. This was something he only did on special occasions. It made his fingers thicker and rougher than usual, and rendered Meridan incapable of continuing to properly service the knight while he caught his breath.  
         Hux’s hand froze before he delivered a sharp smack to the lieutenant’s backside with the other palm. “Did I say you could take a break?”  
         Meridan shook his head. “No, sir.”  
         “You are here to please our guest and obey my whims,” he reprimanded, “Not to take pleasure from my hand. I’m only doing this so I can fuck you smoothly. I don’t want to see your mouth anywhere but his cock and balls from now on. Is that understood?”  
         He nodded humbly. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”  
         “Apologize to Lord Ren for putting your pleasure ahead of his own.”  
         “I apologize, My Lord. I won’t do it again.”  
         “And Ren? You may restrain him with your hands or powers as you see fit. Just don’t cause him to lose consciousness.”  
         Kylo had never used the Force during sex other than to communicate or to gauge his partner’s pleasure. Curious now as Meridan swallowed him back up, he did the latter. The lieutenant was reveling in the act, in the way that it simplified his entire existence to two activities: breathing and sucking dick. With what little focus he had left to think, he hoped that Kylo Ren was enjoying him.  
         “Of course,” the knight responded, surprised at the thought.  
         Meridan looked up at him, an unspoken question in his eyes.  
         “You’re doing very well. I’m enjoying this immensely.”  
         A flicker of bewilderment passed over the lieutenant’s face before he understood that Kylo had read him. Then he nodded minutely and ducked his head down to bring the knight’s thick cock as far as it would go, all without anyone’s help. Kylo looked over Meridan’s head to watch Hux. The general’s trousers were open and he was slowly stroking himself with one gloved hand while the other continued to busy itself with the task of stretching Meridan.  
         “I’ve never had better head,” Kylo admitted aloud. “Almost ready, Hux?” The redhead nodded. The knight put a hand on Meridan’s shoulder. “Take a break for a moment and play with my balls. I don’t want to come anytime soon.”  
         Hux sat up on his knees, positioned himself, and grasped Meridan’s waist with his gloved hands. “That’s the right idea, Lord Ren. Make it last as long as possible.” With that, he eased inside. Meridan’s moan was muffled by the balls in his mouth. “It’s what he wants, after all. And what he deserves. A cock in each hole. Isn’t that so, boy?”  
         The lieutenant made an affirmative sound. Kylo sunk his fingertips into the man’s curly hair and half-stroked, half-tugged at it. “Gods, keep working those balls,” he ordered. “Oh, you’re such a pretty whore.”  
         “Isn’t he, though? Such a giving arse, too.” Hux bounced Meridan, pushing and pulling him by the hips. And on each thrust, Kylo’s dick pressed further down the man’s throat than should have been possible.  
         “How hard can he take it?”  
         “As hard as you’d care to give. He’s a very good sport.”  
         “Let’s both pound at him for a while, then.”  
         Hux grinned. “Count of five, Lord Ren?” He held up three fingers in silent communication. Kylo nodded in understanding. They both began thrusting violently when Hux reached “three.” Meridan screamed around the knight’s cock at the early start. “We decided to give you a surprise,” the general explained.  
         Kylo overheard the lieutenant’s responding thought.  
          _—More like a bloody conspiracy._

 

Kylo admired Hux’s stamina. He’d been going at Meridan for half an hour now without a single break. Kylo, on the other hand, had needed to pull out of the man’s mouth and count his breaths on several occasions to hold back a climax.  
         “I think,” Kylo said as he gulped for air during a particularly long and satisfying suck, “we should come soon.”  
         The general smiled. “Agreed. You first, if you’d like. You’re our guest after all.”  
         “No, thanks. I want to watch you.” Kylo wanted to see that look on Hux’s face where all his concerns vanished and his self-control melted away.  
         Hux tilted his head, considering this. “I’m planning on coming right where I am. How about you, Ren? Mouth or face?”  
         “Right down his throat, I suppose.”  
         “Or…” Hux could scarcely believe he was about to offer this, but he continued nonetheless. “I’d be willing to let you follow me here.” He squeezed one of Meridan’s cheeks and gave it a fond smack. “If this slut can handle two loads up his arse, that is.”  
         Kylo pulled the lieutenant’s head back by the hair with one hand and stroked his cheek with the other. “What do you say to that, Noro? Would you like me to take you after the general is done with you?”  
         The answer came in one quick burst. “Yes, sir. Oh, fuck, yes please, My Lord.”  
         The knight shook his head in disbelief at his good fortune. “Then finish soon, Hux, so I can fill him up right to the brim. See if he can keep it all inside, or if it overflows.”  
         Hux wiped his brow and started hammering away at his boyfriend. He no longer cared about Kylo Ren or his own career or anything besides this. Because _this_ was important. This was real. “Meridan,” he whispered as he finally allowed himself release. Pulling out once he was done, he gave Kylo a knowing smile. “Your turn, My Lord.”  
         Kylo gave one last thrust down Meridan’s throat before stepping back. Cupping the man’s chin, he whispered, “Thank you” and swapped places with the general. As he knelt behind Meridan, he saw Hux crouch down by the lieutenant’s face and gaze into his eyes. They started kissing, and Kylo found that act far more intimate than watching them fuck. But he didn’t dwell on the thought, because his fingers were exploring the man’s slick, sticky entrance.  
         “You needn’t get him ready. I’ve done that for you.”  
         Kylo had always had to stretch partners out for him, but he’d never gone after someone else, so this was new. He slipped his fingertip out and tasted it. With Hux’s come on his tongue, he pulled Meridan back onto his cock in one smooth motion. Despite having been fucked for over thirty minutes, he still felt plenty tight. And very slippery. “Fuck,” Lord Ren groaned. “Gods, oh fuck.” He wasn’t able to say much more than that. He took note of the lieutenant’s striped back and felt a brief pang at the history it represented. This young man deserved a better past, and Kylo was glad to witness the way Hux was kissing him now. The general might fuck him like a whore, but he clearly loved him and wasn’t ashamed to express it. Also it was arousing because he felt like a voyeur even now, watching something so meaningful between the two men even while he took one of them up the ass.  
         The Knight of Ren wouldn’t last much longer, but he didn’t care because he’d been edging pretty much the entire time that he and Hux had double-teamed Meridan. Now, listening to the filthy squelching sounds of his dick pumping through the heat of Hux’s load, he was about to lose his damn mind. He was a third wheel here, but ever so grateful for being included at all.  
         The couple was still kissing deeply, although Meridan was gasping into Hux’s mouth.  
         “You’d like to say something?” Hux broke away to ask.  
         “May I come too, sir?” Meridan sounded hopeful but not desperate, happy enough to continue satisfying his partners. “While he’s still in me?”  
         “What do you think, Lord Ren? It’s up to you.”  
         “Of course.” He could feel Hux’s semen leaking out around his balls, and he marveled at the rough fucking this young man could take and enjoy. He deserved an epic orgasm for the pleasure he’d given tonight.  
         Hux smiled. “You’ve been very good for us both. Would you like me to help?”  
         Meridan nodded and Hux moved for better access. He gave his palm a generous lick before reaching out. Kylo felt a shudder pass down the lieutenant’s spine as the general began stroking him, and that pushed him a good deal farther along his own way.   
         Hux leaned over to admire the way Meridan’s hole stretched around Kylo’s girth. “Fuck, love, I bet you’ve never been opened so wide. Not even with that toy of ours. He’s _huge_. Does it almost hurt?”  
         The lieutenant nodded. “Yes, sir. So deep. So thick. Can’t think.”   
         “Good. I’m loving watching him have a rough go at you. Such a huge cock nailing your slutty, used arse.” At this encouragement, Meridan let out a wild and obscene moan, and Hux beamed over at Kylo. “Show him no mercy, Ren. Wreck him if you have to.”  
         “I’m about to come in your beautiful ass, Lieutenant Noro.”  
         “Maker, please do. Use me, My Lord. Fill me up. Leave me filthy and sore.”  
         Kylo groaned at these words and immediately he began spilling, slamming his hips forward roughly with each spurt from his cock, his load mingling with Hux’s. Meridan shouted and Kylo knew he was coming as well, since he could feel the man’s ass squeeze around him, coaxing the remainder of his seed out of his body.  
         Once he was emptied, Hux had Kylo pin Meridan down to the mattress while he sucked the ejaculate out of his gaping hole. Then he went in for another kiss, making the man taste what he and Kylo had given him.  
         “Happy birthday, Meridan.”  
         Kylo Ren stood back and blinked at this information. He’d never been a present before.


	26. Full Circle (Closure)

Her name was Inma Basharian, and she’d been captured during reconnaissance. According to the Order’s patchy intelligence, her rank was Major and her work was with Resistance fleet logistics. This meant that Basharian herself wasn’t particularly important—there was no real risk of a rescue mission—but she knew key information about the Resistance’s materiel and capabilities.  
         Meridan and Hux stood side by side in Interrogation Room 12, about two meters from Inma’s chair. This was their third prisoner interview together, and they were both sober this time.  
         “Well,” Meridan began. “Here we are.”  
         Staring up at the pair of officers, she spoke in measured, almost clipped syllables. “Yes. So it would seem.” Her eyes flickered toward Hux and she gave the barest hint of a shudder. She wasn’t an idiot—she knew the general’s presence meant trouble.  
         “I imagine you have a good idea what we’re going to be discussing today. Or for the next several days, if you prefer.”  
         She gave a smile with her mouth that didn’t touch her eyes. “I’ve been tortured before. Get to it.”  
         “Torture? Did I say ‘torture’?” Turning to his companion, Meridan inquired, “General Hux?”  
         The general raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “No, Lieutenant. I believe you said we were going to have a discussion.”  
         Returning his attention to the prisoner, the lieutenant allowed, “I mean, if you’d _prefer_ us to employ harsh interrogation techniques, we could likely oblige.”  
         “We don’t want to be poor hosts,” Hux explained dryly. “I’d hate to give the First Order a bad name.”  
         “So, what do you think, Basharian?”  
         She sized them up, looking at each for some time. “I think we may be able to come to an agreement. You let me out of this chair and I’ll show both of you my gratitude.”  
         Noro wasn’t in the mood to entertain her attempt at bargaining. “We’re in the market for information. I’m pretty sure we’ve made that clear.”  
         “I could give you something else.” Her voice was suddenly low and husky.  
         Hux snorted, and at the sound, Meridan couldn’t help but fully break down into laughter. He ended up moving to lean back against the nearest wall as he tried to regain his breath. “Hux—” he managed before he realized the general was now also laughing properly, which sent him right back over the edge. “I can’t breathe…” Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed until it hurt.  
         Hux coughed, trying to regain a semblance of self-control. “Hm. Hah. Mm. So the problem is, you’re propositioning the wrong men.” He reached out an arm to wrap it around Meridan’s waist, who shifted his weight against him to place a lingering kiss on the general’s neck. “Have you ever been with a woman, Lieutenant?”  
         “No. You, General?”  
         “No. And I’d rather not start with terrorist scum.”  
         “Well, Basharian.” Finally speaking steadily again, Meridan summarized her predicament. “It looks like you’re out of options other than 1) Talk and 2) Scream. Both, if you’d prefer. In any order. But it’s up to you.”  
         A single tear ran down the side of her nose. When she spoke again, her voice was tremulous. “Please… Do you have any interrogation drugs?”  
         Hux peered down at her. “Yes. Though they’re not particularly pleasant.”  
         “I’m sure they’re not. But can we go that route? Please. I can’t be water-boarded again.” There was a wild look in her eyes. “I can’t.”  
         “I believe we can oblige, Miss Basharian. After the amusement you provided.” Hux unlocked a cabinet and rifled through some syringes. He set three on a wheeled tray. “We have ketamine, midazolam, and pentobarbital. Obviously they’re paired with some other compounds to render them less enjoyable.”  
         “Rocuronium. Atropine. Arsenic trioxide,” Meridan supplied helpfully, watching the prisoner’s face. “But we have reversal agents if you begin cooperating.”  
         “Let’s start by helping you relax a little, shall we?” Hux removed his leather gloves to replace them with a pair for medical examinations. After applying rubbing alcohol to their surfaces, he selected the syringe of midazolam and made his way towards the chair. As he passed the lieutenant, Meridan abruptly grabbed hold of Hux’s wrist to stop him short.  
         “Lieutenant,” Hux warned in a cold tone. Noro had never laid a hand on him like this; it went against everything they were to each other.  
         But Meridan spoke directly to the prisoner. “You clever bitch,” he spat out, peering into Basharian’s eyes. He finally broke the stare and turned to Hux. “Allergy. Probably anaphylactic. She was hoping we’d kill her.”  
         Hux’s attention snapped toward the woman who now wore a defeated smile. “Excellent catch, Lieutenant. As for you, young lady… Well, we’re going to be seeing quite a lot of each other over the next several days. I suggest you get comfortable. We’ll see you in the morning. Maybe Lord Ren has some space in his schedule.” He dropped the syringe on the tray on their way out.  
         Once the door slid shut behind them, Hux turned to Meridan. “That was incredible. What the hell tipped you off?”  
         “I was watching her while you were talking. When you said ‘midazolam,’ there was a noticeable look of relief on her face. It took me a moment to figure out why that could possibly be.”  
         Hux put his hand around the back of Meridan’s neck and drew his ear towards him. “You just averted the waste of a valuable resource. I want to reward you tonight. Your choice: I’m issuing a blank cheque.”  
         Meridan raised an eyebrow. “My choice,” he repeated. “Oh, Hux.” He shook his head in disbelief.

 

 

“Have you decided, Lieutenant?” Hux asked as he finished rinsing his mouth of toothpaste.  
         Stretching his arms over his head, Meridan quickly answered from the bed, “I knew immediately what I want. You.”  
         The redhead leaned against the fresher doorway. “You have me every ni—” Hux’s words cut off. “Oh. You mean…?”  
         “Yes,” Meridan confirmed, leaving the bed to move toward the general. “I want to fuck you. Not your hands, not your mouth. Your _arse_.” Grinning victoriously, he reminded Hux, “I believe you issued me a blank cheque?”  
         Hux rolled his eyes as he nodded and waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Yes, yes, you have a blank fucking cheque.”  
         “Unless you want to go back on your word as an officer and a gentleman? No? So get out of that beautiful uniform and onto the bed.”  
         The general shook his head in disbelief as he disrobed, folded his clothes carefully, and climbed onto the bed. “I walked right into this one. Shouldn’t have opened my damn mouth.”  
         “Shh, General. Quit bitching.” Meridan placed his palms on Hux’s shoulders and pressed him down onto the mattress. “Oh, the agony of choice. On your knees like a whore or on your back so I can see your face?”  
         Instead of answering his question, Hux grumbled, “I really hate you right now, Lieutenant.”  
         “Good. It’ll make it that much sweeter.” Meridan leaned forward to swipe his tongue across Hux’s lips once.  
         “You’ve learned one too many lessons from me.”  
         “This is what you get for being an excellent instructor. So, I’ve decided to take you on your back. I want you to watch me nail you.” He leaned across to the nightstand to fetch the lube. “How long has it been for you?”  
         “A good long while,” Hux admitted as he folded his legs up against his chest. “But I don’t want to talk about anyone else when I’m with you.”  
         “Ah. I’ll take my time, then.” With that, Meridan poured a generous helping of lube onto his palm. Then he ran a finger between Hux’s ass cheeks and felt the general shiver. He circled the entrance, then slowly pushed the fingertip in. Hux drew in a sharp breath. “You all right?” Meridan asked.  
         “Shut up and give me more.”  
         Meridan laughed. “You missed this. But you’d never admit it.” He worked his finger in as far as it would go and twisted it, searching for Hux’s sweet spot. He was rewarded with a guttural moan. “You’re such a bastard, Hux. I could have been doing this for months.” But Meridan instinctively knew that wouldn’t have worked out; he suspected that Hux wouldn’t do this without feeling—and admitting—love. He inserted another finger and began stretching the passage. Once he felt the subtle give of Hux’s muscles relaxing, he hoisted the redhead’s legs up around his waist, positioned himself, and dove in.  
         “Ahh fuck,” Hux hissed. The lieutenant began to rock back and forth, then brought his hand between Hux’s legs and started stroking. “Meridan… Harder.”  
         “Who’s begging now?”  
         “Stop taunting me and start fucking me, damn you.”  
         “Maker, but you’re bossy.” Meridan flashed Hux a brilliant smile before his expression took a serious cast.  
         “Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” Hux ordered softly. After all, they were sober; the only way to know one another’s minds at moments like this was to ask.  
         After sucking in a long inhalation as if it would help him express himself, Meridan made his declaration. “I will always love you. I will never leave you. They’ll have to kill me.”  
         The general reached up and grabbed Meridan’s chin, tilting it toward him. “I won’t give them the chance.” Then, with a half-smirk, he demanded, “Now give it to me.”  
         “What exactly?” Meridan teased, feigning ignorance.  
         “ _Everything_.” He threw his arms back over his head in happy surrender.  
         Giving in to the redhead’s demands, he thrust as far and fast as he could, pinning Hux between him and the mattress. Underneath him, Hux began panting harshly, gasping for air as sweat slicked his forehead, eyes grown wild. “I’m—fuck, Declan, I’m going to come inside you.”  
         Hux moaned. “Do it. Do it. I want to feel it. Hell, I’m close, too.”  
         “You first. And say my name.” Meridan sat back on his folded legs, giving the redhead space to wank himself properly.  
         “Fuck, Meridan. Gods almighty. Mer. Come in me, my love.” As he babbled out these words, he climaxed onto their stomachs with a hissing, “Yes.” Then he watched Meridan’s eyelids flutter closed, witnessed the lieutenant bite down hard on his lower lip, and felt his release. “Love this,” Hux breathed. “Love you.”

 

 

They stood together in the refresher, hot water beating down on bare skin.  
         “How long has it been? Since you took a partner like that?”  
         Meridan’s mouth opened slightly as he thought. “Um. Six years. Shit… Hux…”  
         Hux realized what that meant. The last man Meridan had penetrated was his first, his only—Garrit. The one he lost to a self-inflicted gunshot. “Talk about it if you need to.”  
         “I… I’m not sure I can. Without punching something. Or someone.”  
         “That’s understandable. Natural.”  
         “I don’t remember how to be properly sad. I forgot how it goes. All I’m familiar with is anger.” He barely had words for the emotions coursing through him right now. The bitterness of what he’d lost; the gratitude for what he now had. _Because that’s what I was taught. Men don’t feel sadness or regret. Just different varieties and strengths of anger._  
         “Whom are you most angry with?” Hux asked, head cocked to the side, droplets of waters falling from his chin.  
         Meridan looked up, eyes bright with fury. “Baromis Noro.” Then he breathed deeply. “Garrit Alkaram.” Face in his hands. “Myself. My own damn self, Hux. I let everything happen to me. And I always have.” He’s been a bystander in his own life.  
         Hux placed his hands over Meridan’s. “Not anymore. You’re in control now.”  
         Meridan shook his head. “But I let you tell me what to do, tie me down, hit me. I’m still a victim; the only thing that’s changed is I’m _your_ victim now.”  
         “You know that’s not true. I enjoy the horrible things we do, gods know I do, but I’d never have struck you that second time if you hadn’t _asked_ —and given me a good reason why you wanted it. You don’t ‘let’ me do things; you ask and you receive. This is on our terms, Mer. Both of us. When you didn’t want me to insult you, I held back despite all my compulsions. I can restrain myself for you, when it’s what you need. And you just finished _fucking_ me, so don’t try to tell me this isn’t a partnership. Tonight was the first time in eighteen bloody years.”  
         “Since the Academy?” Meridan asked, head tilted to one side.  
         “Yes, since Seachnall, you arse.” Childishly, Hux flicked water into Meridan’s face.  
         “Oh, fuck. Declan. You too. Are you alright?” He was realizing that second love was difficult, especially when their firsts had both been ripped away from them.  
         Hux nodded thoughtfully. “I’m surprisingly calm and happy. Which is all your fault, just to be clear. Stupid, senseless love. You were supposed to be a diversion, nothing more.”  
         “I know. It doesn’t fit my plans either.”

 

 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Blythe,” Noro announced in way of greeting the anonymous man strapped into the chair of Interrogation Room 3.  
         “That’s not my name,” the figure growled.  
         He stepped closer, angled the light into the man’s face, and froze. “You fucking bastard.” His hands trembled, his heart pounded, his stomach twisted.  
         At this insult, the man peered up into his interrogator’s face and spat at his feet.  
         Meridan turned in desperation to look at Hux. The general was standing back, smiling peacefully. At least one of the three people in the room was calm. “You—you did this. You _brought_ him here. Why, sir?”  
         “For you. I believe you deserve resolution.”  
         The lieutenant stared at the old man’s features. “Hello, Father. It’s been some time.”  
         “A lifetime isn’t long enough to distance myself from the disappointment you’ve caused me.”  
         Meridan swallowed, then forced himself to walk casually up to the chair and backhand the man across his face. “You speak of disappointment. Do you not realize where we are?”  
         “I’m no fool. I recognize the _Finalizer_ and its commander.” He smiled bitterly. “It might as well be a flying brothel for all I care. I’m sure that’s what you use it for.”  
         Meridan could sense the general tensing up behind him at the insult to his ship. His pride and joy, the closest thing he would have to a child. The lieutenant slapped his father again. “I imagined you’d have more respect for the flagship of the First Order. You raised me to be a soldier, after all.”  
         “I tried and failed at that. I was glad to wash my hands of you the moment I shipped you off to the Academy.”  
         “Try as I might, I never quite understood why you cared so deeply about whom I fucked.”  
         “Who fucked you, you mean. Sissy.”  
         “Even so. My scores in school. The commendations. Marksmanship and piloting. Manly shit.”  
         “I was so proud of you!” the man shouted, watching Meridan’s eyes widen in surprise. “And then you threw it all away—and for what? To get down on your knees like a common prostitute! To let yourself be used and discarded! Someone with your heritage and upbringing!”  
         Hux spoke up, his voice quiet but firm. “I don’t think you understand, Colonel Noro.” He came to stand beside Meridan. “Wanting to please someone you care about and whoring yourself out are two different concepts.”  
         Baromis snorted. “Not for this cunt.”  
         “We’re getting nowhere, Lieutenant,” Hux admitted with gloved fingertips at his temples. “You might as well hit him again. Gods know I’d like to.”  
         Meridan swung at the man, fist connecting to jaw. Hux nodded in approval at the tight punch. You’re not broadcasting anymore. People don’t see you coming. Meridan continued to land solid hits to his father’s face. His expression was almost serene. Hux thought he looked particularly beautiful right now.  
         Eventually Meridan stepped back, catching his breath and starting to smile just a little. Hux took the opportunity to drape himself languidly across the lieutenant’s shoulders. The general nodded at the older man’s disgusted expression. “Yes, it turns out you were right about me, Mr. Noro. I’m a terrible _invert_.”  
         Baromis glared daggers at him.  
         Hux leaned over and kissed Meridan’s neck lasciviously, then strode toward the restrained man. He backhanded him viciously, the slap ringing out in the sparse room. “Unfortunately for you, I’m the invert who runs the show around here and in several sectors. I happen to command the armed forces of the First Order. And your son is the most promising young officer I’ve seen in my entire tenure.”  
         The lieutenant felt his face flush with pride—Hux had only said the best in the past few _years_.  
         “Only because he’s your kind of whore. Happy to be fucked by anyone who’ll take him.”  
         “No. He didn’t exchange anything for where he is.”  
         The older man turned his head towards Meridan. “So you just do it for fun?” He spat the last word. “That’s almost worse. You’re a disgrace to that uniform and to your name.”  
         Bristling, Hux spat, “I’ve spent the better part of a year trying to deal with the damage you’ve done to one of my most valuable assets.” The general produced a sheet of flimsi from his coat and held it in front of Baromis. “Can you read this, or shall I?”  
         Baromis grunted and peered at the document. His eyes scanned it and he couldn’t help but see a few choice phrases.

> _First in his class of over 800 graduates._  
>  _Nearly perfect exit examination score._  
>  _Commendable dedication._  
>  _Excellent critical thinking._  
>  _Conclusion: Recommend for accelerated leadership track._

         “Doesn’t mean bantha-shit,” Baromis muttered. “Coming from you.”  
         “Ah, but it doesn’t. This is from his immediate superior, Commander Ledesma. In case you don’t know, the Commander is a girl.” He grinned widely. “Do you know how many service-members have been recommended for accelerated leadership? Since the foundation of the Empire?” He paused a beat. “Eighteen. The list includes Grand Moff Tarkin and myself.”  
         Baromis narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and took a long look at Meridan. “Is this document accurate?”  
         “Yes, Father.”  
         “Hm.” He sighed deeply. “I suppose you aren’t quite the little bitch I always assumed.” This admission caused him obvious psychic pain.  
         Now it was Meridan’s turn to walk toward him. He looked directly down. “Oh, but I am. You know what happened after you caught me with Garrit? After you taught me my first lesson by whipping me in front of him? Hm?” He placed a gloved finger under his father’s chin and tilted it upwards. “I left and didn’t come home that night, if you recall. Because I was too busy with his cock up my ass. It was _perfect_. And you never taught me a goddamn thing—other than anger. And a burning desire for revenge.” He flicked out his jackknife. “A lesson I learned well.” He slid the knife down Baromis’ cheek, slicing skin open and drawing blood. He repeated the motion on the other side of the man’s face.  
         “When?” his father growled through the pain.  
         “When what?”  
         “When did you become a man?”  
         Meridan’s smile was terrifying, and Hux felt breathless witnessing it. “When you taught me to hate you.” Then he stepped behind the chair, grabbed the man’s thinning hair in his left glove, and methodically drew the blade across his father’s throat.

* * *

 

He hadn’t expected so much blood. Actually, he hadn’t imagined anything beyond the drag of the knife. After that point, his fantasy had gone black. Curtains. Bows. Standing ovation.  
         As it was, his sleeves were soaked and the front of his tunic spattered with arterial spray. He stared down at his soiled uniform as Hux approached him from the side. The general slipped an arm around him, drawing him close. The blood didn’t faze him at all; he’d killed with his own knife before. As Hux moved in, he took Meridan’s right hand in his and lifted it to his face. The lieutenant’s gloved fingers painted red streaks across the general’s sharp cheekbones. Hux grinned, murmured, “I’m so very proud of you,” and went in for a deep kiss. Just before his lips hit Meridan’s, he whispered, “Marry me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one half of a double-feature posting extravaganza. Together with Chapter 17 of "Not Ideal," these two postings share a theme. If you're the first to guess the theme correctly (via posted comment on either story), I will draw you a simple picture of your choice. Warning: I do not draw in any traditional sense of the word.


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